The Reid Rebellion
by Inks Inc
Summary: Being a genius is a privilege, sure, but it also has its drawbacks. When those drawbacks become all the more pressing, morphing into an overall attitude and outlook, things get a little heated between Dr Spencer Reid and Agent Aaron Hotchner. Things get very heated indeed. Warning: Spanking.
1. Emotionally Involved

SSA Aaron Hotchner fought hard to keep a firm handle on his temper as he glared his trademark warning at his youngest and though he'd never admit it favourite, agent who was teetering on the edge of throwing a full blown tantrum in front of his desk. Feeling the full force of the older agents gaze on him Dr Spencer Reid recklessly gazed back unfazed, his chin raised in defiance.

Seeing the stubborn streak shining in the genius kids' eyes, Hotch, as he was known to his team (unless they were in trouble), sighed. Softening his gaze somewhat he addressed the younger man firmly. "Reid. I said no. It's too dangerous given the delicate nature of this case. The outcome is too unpredictable and its' an unnecessary risk that I will not allow you to run. Now drop it, and can that attitude while you're at it, last warning."

Grinding his teeth in irritation, Reid tried again, foolishly. "Hotch, will you just listen please? I can talk him down. I know I can. There doesn't need to be any guns used. Its' a win-win all round, he gets to live or at least with survivable injury and we get a clean and uncomplicated arrest. I understand him; he's been through so much torment because he's different. I can talk him down, I'm sure of it." He stared at the team leader somewhat haughtily, as if daring him to tell him he couldn't convince the unsub to surrender to arrest when the time came.

Feeling the familiar pangs of anger at the treatment Reid had been subjected to before he met him; Hotch surveyed the passionate young man in front of him with an appraising eye. It was indeed possible that Reid could negotiate successfully with the suspect in their current case when they closed in. However, they had profiled that he was at over an eighty per cent risk of engineering a suicide by cop. It was due to this fact that Hotch was point blank refusing Reid's request. There was no way he would ever place any of his team members at needlessly increased risk, especially "the kid" as he was dubbed. SSA Derek Morgan would often joke that Hotch was so over protective of Reid that the kid might as well be a human cotton wool ball.

Reaffirming his decision, Hotch worked to resume his warning gaze. "No Reid. The answer is no. I don't want to hear another word about it, not a syllable. Now, get back to work." Recognising the dismissal, Reid turned sulkily to leave his boss's office.

Reaching the door he muttered "it'd be a different story if it was Muscle Morgan asking" under his breath, not actually intending to be heard. Unfortunately for him, his superior had ears like a hare.

"What was that Reid?" snapped Hotch, his patience finally having expired.

"Nothing, nothing" came the petulant reply, muffled as Reid didn't bother himself to turn around to speak to his now completely fed up boss.

Sighing angrily, the older agent crossed the room in three strides. Grasping the mutinous young man by the shoulder he spun him around and landed a quick round of searing and deliberate swats across his backside. Reid yelped in pain and surprise, reaching back to cover his rear protectively. Keeping his firm grip on the now puppy eyed prodigy, Hotch ground out in a dangerously low voice "keep it up Reid. Keep it up and you and I are going to take a little trip to the conference room, and believe me those few swats you just got will feel like my Christmas present to you compared to what you'll get. Now, do I make myself _abundantly_ clear to you?"

Knowing when to admit defeat, Reid looked at the floor sheepishly. "Yes Sir" he murmured quietly.

"Do I need to remind you about what happened the last time you talked back to me like this and disobeyed me concerning a case of this kind by the way Reid? With Owen?"

Reid shook his head in the negative frantically. Hotch knew he was remembering the extremely sore backside he'd received for putting himself in untold danger to help a different kid with whom he'd identified in the same way he was identifying with their current suspect.

Slightly mollified, Hotch slackened his hold on the kid but didn't completely relinquish it. Placing a gentle hand under Reid's chin, he tipped the younger mans' head up and made stern eye contact with him. "Anything else to say to me Reid?" he demanded looking meaningfully at Reid's presumably smarting backside, wanting to put the matter to bed once and for all.

Taking a breath, Reid used his puppy brown eyes to good effect. Looking beseechingly at Hotch he replied "I'm sorry for my attitude Sir, it won't happen again." Hotch smiled his soft smile and finally let go of Reid's now tender arm. Ruffling his hair affectionately, and earning himself a patented Spencer Reid pout in the process, he held the door open for the now repentant kid. "Much better Reid. Go on then, hop it. I want reports on my desk before the close of business today."

Days passed and Reid was on his best behaviour, showing no signs of resentment that he had not gotten his own way with his earlier request. Hotch was particularly glad of this fact as the they were closing in rapidly on the vigilante hunting unsub, and it wouldn't be long before they would have to be involved in some kind of blow out with the victim turned vigilante.

Several more days came and went and Hotch was increasingly being confined to the paperwork aspect of his job, and less of the field. An external audit of internal operations was looming, and Director Strauss was breathing down his neck promising dire repercussions if his teams' bureaucratic side didn't pass muster. Frustrated, but duty bound Hotch appointed Morgan to oversee the "Hargreaves Investigation" surrounding the Reid pitied unsub. This Morgan did well, as only Morgan could. When the call came in that the suspect had been confined and surrounded by local law authorities in an abandoned building, Hotch therefore had no qualms about letting his senior agent lead his team, instructing him to _bring it home_ as best he could.

However, whenever his team was out of his line of vision and in the field, Hotch could never suppress the pool of paternal anxiety that gathered in his stomach. He may come across as stern and uncaring, but he would lay down his life to protect every single member on his team and found it difficult to let them operate in the field without him. Sighing, he worked diligently at his desk, waiting for the call that he knew Morgan would conscientiously provide when the situation had been neutralised. When the phone rang, he snatched it up expectantly. His face fell hard when it was Strauss, and not Morgan as he had hoped. Wincing slightly as his boss without wasting time on pleasantries like _hello,_ began to lengthily chew him out without mercy for a miniscule oversight on a report he had authored, Hotch prayed that the line wasn't being monopolised to the exclusion of Morgan's call.

" _ **Yes Ma'am, I'll look into it."**_

" _ **No Ma'am, I don't think that it's good enough."**_

" _ **Yes Ma'am, I know how important this audit is."**_

" _ **No Ma'am, I'm not trying my best to be incompetent. No Ma'am, yes Ma'am…yes I know."**_

" _ **Two weeks desk duty?! Two?! But ….it wasn't that big a…."**_

… _ **.."Yes Ma'am, I agree that two weeks desk duty is lenient, thank you."**_

" _ **Goodbye Ma'am."**_

Groaning in frustration and annoyance, Hotch slammed the phone down. Strauss, in profiling terms was undergoing a transient state of extreme fluctuating emotion stemming from high stress external triggers. In layman's terms, she was being an unfair, unpleasant arbitrary tyrant. _To think that my lot think_ _ **I'm**_ _harsh, they should try being directly under her_ Hotch thought ruefully as he resigned himself to being unjustly chained to his desk based prison for another two weeks.

Settling back down to work and waiting for Morgan's call, Hotch was relieved when thirty or so minutes later the phone rang again. Snatching up the receiver once more he waited to hear what he hoped was all round good news.

" _ **Morgan? Talk to me."**_

" _ **Hotch. It's done. We shot to kill, but worked out as an injury shot, suspect is down but stable. He's being accompanied to and will be guarded at the hospital."**_

" _ **The team?"**_ Hotch asked, happy with the news Morgan had given him, but detecting with a profilers ear an undercurrent of…. _something_ in his voice.

" _ **All safe and… accounted for."**_

There it was again. Morgan was holding something back.

" _ **Derek…..please, what is it?"**_

" _ **In person Hotch. I'll explain in person…you're, well you're not going to like this. See you soon."**_

With that the line went dead and Hotch paled. He suddenly had a very good idea of what was bothering his senior agent.

 _Reid._

An hour or so passed, as the team were relatively far out, there was no choice but wait. Hotch stared unseeingly at the reports in front of him, a red mist of rage had descended over his eyes. If Reid had done what he suspected he'd done, the kid was as good as dead. He wouldn't sit for a month. Sighing heavily, he attempted to get some work done to take his mind of what he genuinely hoped he had been unfair in thinking.

As he was hitting his stride with the tedious form filling, there came a confident knock on the door that Hotch instantly recognised as Morgan's. Calling for him to come in immediately, Hotch's worst fears were confirmed when Morgan entered first looking thunderous, dragging along with him by his upper arm, an extremely nervous and guilty looking Spencer Reid.

Looking up from his desk as his oldest agent, dragged his youngest into a front and centre position before him, Hotch's eyes narrowed dangerously. Knowing straight away from Reid's demeanour that he'd get a quicker explanation from Morgan, Hotch turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Explain please Morgan."

SSA Morgan took a deep breath. If there was one thing he hated to do was to get one of his own in trouble. Deep trouble. In this case however, he had no choice but to make an exception. Reid had been so far out of line on this one, there was no way he could protect him from the consequences like he usually tried to do. Whilst he was furiously angry with Reid himself, he couldn't help but shoot him a furtive sympathetic look knowing that the soon to be enraged SSA Hotchner was going to flat out kill the kid. Looking his boss in the eye Morgan began the unpleasant task of explaining Reid's momentous screw up, while Reid himself was burning a hole in Hotch's carpet with his gaze.

"We had the suspect cornered, taking over from the local PD. We gave him three chances as per protocol to surrender arms and exit. Well..he didn't do that, he went for the suicide by cop as we thought. As we attempted to go for in the kill shot…Reid…well, Reid….took off his vest and stood in front of the suspect blocking our shot and putting himself in the firing line instead."

"I ordered him out, and he disobeyed my orders. I ordered him to get his ass out of there again. He disobeyed me again."

He then attempted to….well, he attempted to negotiate the weapon from the suspect, whilst being unarmed himself and announcing that fact to the unsub. The suspect feigned compliance with Reid's instructions, and then went in for the suicide by cop using the kid as bait. Emily managed to get in a miraculous shot in the circumstances that effectively disarmed the suspect. We moved in, subdued him, and got Reid out."

Finishing his explanation, it was Morgan's turn to look down at the ground in misery. He felt guilty as hell for what he'd had to do, but he knew he had to do it. The kid was only standing and breathing beside him through a combination of divine intervention and the unnerving skill of SSA Prentiss.

SSA Hotchner sat trembling with rage. He glanced down at his hands and saw that they were literally shaking with raw anger. Looking at his senior agent, he felt a rush of pride for the man's' decision making. Morgan was as loyal as they come and he knew how much it would have cost to him to haul Reid onto the carpet and describe what he had done, to him, their boss. Especially considering the bond that existed between both men.

Clearing his throat, he said with surprising gentleness, "thank you Morgan. Thank you for a job well done and thank you for looking after our team today. You should be proud of yourself, now get yourself home and rested. Take the others with you, you've all had a long day."

When Morgan nodded and looked questioningly at Reid, clearly wondering whether the team leader meant for him to take him as well, Hotch shook his head. "No. Not Reid, we have many…many things to discuss" he said grimly. Morgan nodded his head sadly, shot the kid one last look of sympathy and left obediently. Hotch leant back in his chair and surveyed the young man before him. He looked dishevelled, morose and tentatively petrified. His eyes had not left the same spot on the floor since he had entered the office.

"Spencer Reid get your eyes up this instant" he snapped angrily.

Reid obediently, thought albeit reluctantly drew his eyes level with the older man and winced when he saw the full force of the anger and disappointment that resided there.

"Explain yourself. This minute" Hotch all but snarled, his anger palpable in the confines of the austere office.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, and knowing that in this situation the only acceptable answer was the gods honest truth, Spencer licked his dry lips and began.

"I deliberately and wilfully disobeyed both you and Morgan. I didn't go to that scene with the intention of doing so, but when I saw the look in his eyes…when he was cornered like that, I lost my head. I went in blind. I went it blind at great personal and potentially fatal risk to myself and the other members of our team. I jeopardised every protocol every set by the bureau in doing so. I genuinely thought I could talk him down. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was just arrogant….I'm so sorry Sir" he finished miserably.

Hotch continued to glare at the boy, torn between the fury he felt at his actions and the relief he felt that he was ok. He understood why Reid had done what he did, he genuinely understood. There was however no way he could justify or excuse it. Standing abruptly, he reached for a large file and flipped it open spilling it's pages onto the desk. Opening his desk drawer he rummaged around in it, glancing up at Reid as he did so. The kid had taken up another floor staring marathon.

Finding what he was searching for, Hotch slipped the object into the manila folder where it was completely concealed. Placing the file under his arm he strode out from behind his desk and over to Reid. Taking him firmly and sternly by the upper arm, just as the vacated Morgan had done so, Hotch without a word to the younger man, propelled him forcibly from the room. Reid for his part didn't dare ask where they were going, mainly because he had a horribly good idea. A few moments of terse silence and rapid walking later, his worst fears were realised when they stopped dead outside a relatively innocent looking door. Whipping out his key card with a little difficulty due to his restraint on Reid, Hotch swiped his ID and the door clicked obligingly open. Pushing the kid in before him, Hotch closed the door with a snap and flicked on the lights.

The conference room was a part of a long since abandoned refurbishment plan and essentially laid dormant. It was a non observance conference room, meaning they were no recording devices or two way mirrors. The walls and doors were also FBI standard thick, no sounds from the inside could be heard from the outside and vice versa. All in all, this room was as Hotch had concluded the perfect correction room for his wayward charges. Well, mostly Reid and often Morgan he had long since concluded. His girls were for the most part, mercifully well behaved.

The room comprised of a standard issue round table and several discarded chairs. Hotch pulled one of the chairs into the middle room, before leaning on it and fixing the contrite young agent with a trademark Hotchner look of death. Reid squirmed under it, shifting feet relentlessly.

"Reid. I don't see the point in lecturing you here. You know exactly what you've done. You knew exactly what you were doing. You don't need to be a profiler to know how furious I am with you. How disappointed I am in you, and how much you've let yourself, me and your team down. Am I correct?"

Reid's doleful eyes were burning with guilt as he nodded his head and murmured "yes Sir."

"You knew exactly what price you would have to pay if you did what you chose to do. So, I don't think there's any point in wasting any more time. Do you?"

Relieved and slightly calmed by Reid's soft "no Sir," Hotch removed his suit jacket and threw it loosely over another chair, placed the manila folder on the ground beside him and sat down on the chair he had leant on. Rolling up the shirt sleeve of his right arm, he watched as Reid's eyes began to show the signs of fear they always did when he had cause to discipline him like this. Refusing to let this get to him as it usually did, Hotch looked away and concentrated on completely freeing his arm. He had no choice but to teach the kid a lesson he wouldn't be likely to forget for a long time.

Looking up he beckoned the now thoroughly miserable boy to him. Reid to his credit didn't bargain, plead or stall as he usually did in this situation. This let Hotch know how sorry he was on its' own and it calmed him down another increment. Taking a deep breath, Hotch looked up at his migraine inducing agent who was now right in front of him and sighed.

"Pants down. Underwear down, now. You don't deserve your usual warm up I'm afraid."

Reid's eyes widened and he winced, but otherwise he did as he was told. Nodding his approval, Hotch reached out and took hold of the kids' wrist and pulled him smartly down over his knee. Reid, with an ease bred of having too much experience quickly steadied himself with his hands, face inches away from the floor. He felt as Hotch moved his shirt tails out of the way, and wrapped his strong arm around his waist to prevent the inevitable squirming and wriggling. He felt his face flush as a cool wind from the drafty room drifted lazily over his bare backside. He hated being upended over Hotch's knee like this. Often, Hotch would deal with his transgressions with a few licks from his belt with Reid bent over the table. The older agent was well aware of Reid's most detested form of punishment, and therefore reserved putting him over his knee for him more serious screw ups.

Hotch looked down at the pale milky skin of the prodigies backside and groaned inwardly. As mad as he was with him, he hated to cause him pain. Pushing his own feelings aside, he tightened his already firm grip on the kids' waist and raised him muscular arm high and brought the first of many searing swats down on the unprotected and upturned bottom before him. Reid hissed through his teeth, the loss of his pants in the beginning stages of a spanking seeming like a massive bereavement to him. Hotch quickly settled into a deliberate tempo, bringing his hard and wide hand down again and again. He allowed no time for Reid to recover between swats, and spanked every inch of the kids' rear in a logical progression, ensuring no area escaped. It wasn't long before Reid began squirming slightly.

Exerting more pressure on his grip to keep the lad steady, Hotch continued to pepper the now dusty pink backside with firm and deliberate swats. Lifting his right knee higher and tipping the now whimpering Reid forward carefully, Hotch had a clearer shot at the boys sit spots. Closing his eyes in reluctance, he brought his hand back and systematically unleashed a flurry of fast and furious swats on the extremely tender skin that joined the top of Reid's thighs to his now scarlet backside. It was at this point that the kid began crying in earnest and squirming around Hotch's lap desperately. As he slid off the older man's knee somewhat, Hotch stopped the spanking for a very brief moment in order to calmly haul the kid back into firing line.

Starting from the top of Reid's now heat radiating rear, Hotch started spanking in the next cycle, working his way down again. When he reached the sit spots again and his hand came down heavily, Reid began whimpering vigorously.

"Please…pl….please Sir, I'm sorry…I'll never, oww…I'll never do it again."

"I know you won't Reid, I intend to make sure of that right now" Hotch replied grimly, wishing he could simply haul his headstrong reprobate off his lap and into his arms, but knowing that he would be doing Reid more harm than good. Hardening his heart, he continued his renewed concentration on the much detested sit spots, drawing squeals, yelps and promises galore from the now very contrite younger agent.

Pausing for another brief moment to survey the progression of the spanking on the bottom across his lap, Hotch saw with relief that they were nearly finished. Reid's posterior was a glowing crimson, and no inch of it had escaped Hotch's deliberate hand. Stiffening his resolve, Hotch leaned down and picked up the manila file that lay at his feet.

Reid seeing this, turned back in anxiety and saw with horror that the object Hotch pulled out was the _hairbrush._ The heavy, old fashioned oak hairbrush that was very rarely used on him i.e. when the older agent really intended on driving a lesson home. Throwing masculinity and stoicism to the wild winds, Reid began pleading shamelessly and attempted to wriggle off the captive lap of SSA Hotchner.

Reid's response was not unprecedented, and Hotch was ready for it. Wrapping his free arm tighter still around the boys' waist, he was effectively restrained. Sniffling through the haze of his tears, Reid pleaded with his angry boss, his voice small due both to his position and his feelings.

"Not the hairbrush….please! Please anything but that….puh-lease. You know…you know how much I hate it."

Hotch closed his eyes against the sounds of his anguished youngest, but couldn't close his ears or his heart. In a much softer tone he spoke to the back of the pleading man, hairbrush in hand. "Shh Reid, shh just calm down. I know how much you hate it. I do, but you need to know how much it would hurt me and how much it would hurt Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Rossi to have to attend your funeral. Your premature, pointless and needless funeral. Do you understand?"

When he felt the torso of the man over his knee go limp and the shoulders sag, Hotch knew he had gotten his point through to his headstrong agent, which was reaffirmed by Reid's sad nodding of his head. Stiffening his resolve, Hotch drew back the hairbrush and brought it down with a loud crack on the well reddened backside, causing Reid to cry out sharply. He drew the brush back again and again and settled quickly into a steady rhythm. Reid began to categorically howl, but squirmed no more, laying limp over Hotch's knee.

As the kids wailing gave way to quiet sobbing, the older agent sighed heavily with relief, they were done. Landing one last swat across both cheeks of the roasting hot backside, he threw the brush quickly out his hand. Reid may hate receiving it, but Hotch equally hated using it. Immediately placing his hand on the small of Reid's back he began rubbing slow and comforting circles on it, murmuring reassurance to the young man. Reid slowly but surely began to stop sobbing, and start sniffling.

Hotch continued to speak to him in a low, gentle tone all the while keeping a forgiving hand on his back. Eventually, when he thought the kid had sufficiently calmed he gingerly pulled his boxers over the well heated bottom, wincing alongside Reid when the soft cotton made contact with his rear. Quickly drawing the boy's slacks up to their original position, Hotch very softly lifted Reid up and off his knee and set him steadily on his feet.

Pulling down his sleeve and re buttoning his cufflinks, Hotch deliberately kept his distance giving Reid space to process what had just happened. He busied himself putting the dratted hairbrush back into its' file and fervently hoping he wouldn't have to use it again for a long time. Tucking the chair he had drawn out back under the table, he turned tentatively back to the now quiet Reid. Seeing that the boy was _again_ involved in a staring competition with the floor, he moved cautiously towards him. Putting a gentle finger under the geniuses chin, he carefully drew Reid's eyes to his own, wincing when he saw the watery quality of the younger mans normally piercingly bright eyes.

"How you doing buddy?" he questioned softly.

Reid took a moment to answer, but didn't drop his gaze. What he said then, tore at Aaron Hotchner's heart.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll have my resignation on your desk within the hour."

The older man gaped at the younger one.

"What? What do you mean your resignation? Spencer, talk to me! I thought you understood why I had to punish you?" Hotch asked in horror. _Was I too hard on him_ he thought frantically.

Reid looked at Hotch in confusion. "Well…well, you said… you said after Owen that if I ever did anything like that again you'd fire me. I did it again…I'd just rather resign, than be fired is what I mean. Of course it's your prerogative to fire me if you prefer."

Hotch's knees nearly buckled with relief. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut for a moment, he placed a hand on the boys shoulder.

"Reid. I was threatening you. I thought it would be enough to deter you, in addition to the roasting you got to never do it again. That's all. The same way I threaten to separate Morgan and Garcia for a month when they refuse to zip it in a briefing. That's all, I'd fight tooth and nail before I'd fire you. I thought you knew that, being a genius and all. Now, is that clear?"

Reid's eyes brightened and he grinned happily, "yes Sir it's clear."

Hotch opened his arms wide for his reprobate to fall into, which he did with gusto for their habitual post spanking hug. The seasoned agent took the opportunity to mutter into Reid's ear "it's Hotch again buddy, not Sir" and grinned when the tousled hair of the kid tickled his chin as he nodded his head happily. Eventually they broke away and Hotch guided Reid out of the conference room with the manila folder under his arm, in a much better mood than when he had guided him in.

Having made their way back to Hotch's office, discussing what food to order in for dinner before they headed home, a new case came in as they seated themselves on the comfortable leather sofa. Reid having some difficulty in finding a comfortable position. Looking at the case files that had been deposited on the team leader's desk to be begun in the morning, Reid looked at Hotch with the familiar pools of pleading in his eyes.

Shaking his head firmly, Hotch answered the unspoken question.

"Sorry buddy, you know the drill. Desk duty, two weeks."

Seeing the crestfallen expression on the kids face, Hotch added grimly "don't worry you'll have company."

Reid looked at him in confusion, "who?" he asked curiously.

Sighing, Hotch lay back in the couch and stared at the ceiling glumly. "Me. Strauss isn't that happy with me right now."

Reid snorted in derision, but then grinned mischievously. "Really? What, pray tell, did Adorably Angelic Aaron do then?"

Narrowing his eyes in feigned annoyance at his cheeky agent, Hotch lifted his head and asked sweetly "need a little reminder on how to address your elder's Reid? We haven't had to revisit that in a while, but it's not a problem. The food will be another ten minutes anyway."

Scuttling away from his boss and friend, Reid hastily replied "no no, I got it , I got it."

Chuckling, Aaron lay back once again.

"Thought so kid, thought so."


	2. Perimeter Breach

Four days of both SSA Hotchner's and Dr Reid's two week desk duty stint had snailed passed and neither of the two men were handling it all that well. A new case had come in, and Morgan and Rossi were taking point on it, leaving the openly sulking Reid and discreetly irritated Hotch behind to work on their respective stacks of cold cases.

Strauss had personally delivered Hotch's tower of files, and spent another fifteen minutes chewing him out for his administrative oversight. He bit his tongue and kept his demeanour as repentant as he possibly could, whilst simultaneously profiling her vast variety of faults viciously in his head. As she brought the second tongue lashing to an end, he muttered yet another apology and signed for the towering stack of cases she had dragged in with difficulty.

Giving a curt nod she made to leave, but stopped at the door to call over her shoulder that she sincerely hoped that this would serve as a lesson to him and expressed the sarcastic hope that he ran his team better than he attended to his unit chief duties.

As the door snapped shut Hotch leant back in his chair and growled obscenities to himself. He was a god damn head of one of the most prestigious law enforcement departments in the world, and because of a ridiculous typo and a hysterical FBI director, he was stuck at his desk like an errant schoolboy.

Sighing, he pulled the first file of his sentence and set to work. This was the procedure he repeated over and over again for four days and he couldn't possibly see how he could survive another seven working days of his allocated torture.

It didn't help that he had to keep a firm eye on a sulking, pouting and thoroughly fed up Reid. When Hotch had deposited _his_ stack of files the kid had come very close to throwing a tantrum. Hotch understood why. Even with Reid's amazing mind, cold cases weren't _meant_ to be cracked or solved, nor did they hold anything that was of any interest whatsoever. They were a classic FBI in-house punishment, and the common theme each file contained was boredom. Sheer and utter boredom.

Reid's eyes had pooled with pleading to their fullest brown eyed extend.

"Please Hotch. C'mon, let me go with the guys. They're here for another hour before the plane leaves. I can help. I can't help here. Please Hotch" he had whined, either oblivious or uncaring as to the frown lines that were deepening on the older man's face.

Pulling his sternest face Hotch had glared at the whinging kid.

"Reid. Don't you dare start. You know the drill. Two weeks, I want these all reviewed and condensed and I don't want to hear any whining about it. Is that clear?"

Casting a furtive glance around the bull pen and observing that it was completely empty save for himself and his boss, Reid ignored Hotch's warnings and amped up his poodle eyes another notch.

"C'mon Hotch, I already…I already got spanked for what I did. Why do I have to sit here and suffer through pointless work when I could actually be helping an active investigation, as well?"

Grinding his teeth in irritation with his youngest agent and still feeling the sting of his own rebuke he had received from a hissing Strauss, the supervising agent unleashed a full blown Hotch glower at the morose looking doctor.

"Yes Reid, you _did_ already get spanked for what you did" he agreed conversationally "but let me tell you this. You keep up this attitude and you're going to end up straight back over my knee and this time I won't be so lenient with you. Now, do I make myself clear?"

Reid made the mistake of snorting derisively in response.

"Lenient?!" he repeated incredulously.

Leaning down into his sulking agent's personal space, a now thoroughly fed up SSA Hotchner spoke quietly, but a taken aback Reid had no trouble hearing every syllable.

"Yes Reid, lenient. That's where it'll stay, unless you want to test me. You should know however, that the answer to your testing is the hairbrush being introduced to your backside much earlier in proceedings than you've ever encountered before. Now, have I finally made myself clear to you, or do you and I need to take a little trip and I can _demonstrate_ what I'm trying to explain to you?"

Reid predictably gaped in horror at his annoyed boss and had the good sense to squeak out the appropriate answer.

"No..no Hotch I got it, I got it. I'm sorry" he offered in contrition, before pulling a case off his own tower and opening it in an appeasing gesture.

Feeling his anger bubble burst with his high spirited kid, Hotch leant forward and ruffled the boy's hair affectionately.

"Better Reid, much better. Listen, I know this sucks. _Trust_ me, I know it does but, two weeks and we'll both be done and back in the field ok?"

As the sandy brown mop of hair bobbed up and down in agreement he smiled his rare smile and set off back to his own cell.

Office, his own office.

Sadly, Reid's attitude took a nosedive over the passage of the next four days.

Hotch had threatened and scolded.

He'd issued a warning swat or two across the kid's backside.

He'd taken away Reid's classical music containing iPod.

He'd threatened an extra month of desk duty. Though, he admitted for the sake of his own sanity he was unlikely to go with that option.

Nothing seemed to yield the desired results for more than an hour. Reid would apologise for his sulking behaviour, cheeky back chat and then when a small amount of time elapsed he would sink back into his pouting reverie. Hotch was beginning to feel the strains of exhaustion in dealing with his wayward youngest and in dealing with his own monstrous pile of work.

The fifth day dawned and Hotch wearily made his way into the bull pen, thoroughly unimpressed with the thoughts of what would presumably be another long day that stretched out before him. He had resolved the previous night, that if Reid's attitude wasn't significantly improved, he'd have no choice but to carry out his earlier threat. Otherwise, they'd never make it through another week.

As he entered the team's communal area, he was unpleasantly surprised to find that Reid was not sitting at his desk and working as he should be.

 _Great. Genius move kid, add tardiness to your list_ he thought to himself grimly. Entering into and settling himself behind his own desk, he was engrossed in heinously tedious work when his phone rang.

He was startled when the hissing voice of SSA David Rossi came hurtling through the receiver.

He silently cringed to himself that even after all these years, and even with his position as unit chief, the angry tones of the older man instantly sent him back to his rookie days, where under his mentor Rossi, he had learned several…painful lessons.

"Aaron Hotchner, what is the idea may I ask of you sending the _kid_ out here to us on a god damn commercial flight in the middle of an investigation? Do you know how dangerous this area is? You sent him here without a team escort? So help me Aaron, you're not going to like the consequences of this when I get back!"

Hotch paled as the explanation for Reid's absence flooded through his brain. Dropping his head into his arms in frustration and feeling the familiar strains of anger begin to rise within him, he choked into the receiver.

"I didn't send him Rossi. I didn't. Until you rang, I had no idea where he was."

A considerable silence lapsed between the two men before the elder of the two spoke once more.

"I will… deal with this here."

Hotch muttered words of agreement that he couldn't really hear, such was his daze of emotions. He was however, jerked back into life when another and final, short sentence wafted through the phone he still had clutched in his hand.

"I also have a feeling I'll be dealing with you when I get back as well Aaron."

With that, the line went dead.

Hotch slumped over his desk and completely buried his head in his arms.

 _Why did I stop being a lawyer…life was so simple then._

TBC


	3. In Loco Parentis

As he ended his brief and admittedly abrasive call with their shocked unit chief, SSA Rossi sat down heavily in the nearest available armchair and sighed with his well versed Italian melodrama.

 _Why Lord, why oh why did I come back this friggin' madhouse…_

 _I thought I was done with migraine inducing kids when Hotch turned out alright, but oh no, now Reid's clearly decided to pick up where Aaron left off and drive me into an early grave…_

 _I wonder what the official procedure is for re –retiring…._

As he looked around the tastefully decorated hotel room, he was relieved that the case was at an end.

When the slightly dishevelled Dr Reid had turned up to the complete surprise of the field based team, they were at the beginning stages of recuperating from a particularly exhausting four days.

Rossi had instantly suspected something was not right with Reid's explanation of events that he had pressed from him. Which was time consuming, as the kid had taken his ease before finally getting over his sulk that the unsub had been apprehended before he had reached them, and carefully answering the many questions the irate Rossi had posed.

It didn't take a profiler to know that there was something distinctly evasive about the way the younger man answered his inquiries and it equally just didn't make sense that Hotch would relieve Reid of his desk duty stint, after only serving half of his sentence.

It made even less sense that the strict unit chief would allow the youngest member of their already young team to travel to a dangerous area. On his own. With no heads up or warning. It didn't however, cross the eldest team members mind that the kid would lie quite so brazenly through his teeth like he had.

Closing his eyes in weariness and suddenly feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, he realised he could do nothing more than wait for his soon to be earthly departed youngest to return. The team had headed out to finalise their liaison with the local law enforcement team, and to submit the final paperwork required. He had seized the opportunity to return to the privacy of his room to ring the Quantico based Hotchner for a much needed explanation.

The minutes snailed by almost mockingly as he fought to attain a calm and composed demeanour. He found it to be a battle where he was planted firmly on the losing side. The god damned kid could have been injured, disastrously so. They were deep in gangland territory, where street muggings resulting in death were a dime a dozen.

He readily conceded that Reid may well be able to think his way through the most complex physics theory known to man and devise an international global warming recovery programme at the same time. However, it caused the elder agent to pale a deathly white as he thought about how he would fare on the streets of an unfamiliar and highly dangerous area, when no one even knew he was there.

Feeling the familiar anger that he had experienced so often with a hard headed Aaron boil to the surface once more, he focussed on his breathing. His ex wives always did say he needed to focus on his breathing, after all.

Soon thereafter, his phone bleeped. Glancing at it, he saw it was a message from Morgan informing him that the team were in the bar and inviting him to join them for a drink. Well, at least that's what he thought it said. The depressing shorthand that affronted his love of languages, made very little sense to him.

 _Why can't any of these youngsters speak in plain English_ he grumbled as he heaved himself out his chair and began to make his way downstairs with purpose. If the rule flouting Reid thought he was going to relax with a few of his favourite appletinis with the rest of the team, he was sadly, oh so sadly mistaken.

Storming into the lavish hotel bar, he quickly spotted the team grouped around a booth and laughing happily. JJ and Prentiss were clearly mocking Morgan who had been snubbed by a nearby model as he had attempted to chat her up in traditional Morgan style. Striding up to the booth in mere seconds, he clapped a hand on the chagrined Morgan's back and congratulated the team again on a job well done.

Reaching around the booth to where Spencer sat, resolutely avoiding eye contact with him, he dropped down into the boy's personal space. As the team resumed their chatter once more, it looked that Rossi was having one his many jovial chats with the boy wonder, and they paid the two men huddled together no attention.

Placing a hand on Reid's shoulder, he spoke quietly, but the flinching kid heard every word.

"Two options here, Spencer" he began, in conversational tones, calmly pleasant, like they might have been talking about the weather.

"Option one, you tell the team that you've got a headache or stomach ache, or some kind of an ache, and you get yourself up those stairs and go straight to my room. Option two, I take you upstairs to my room myself by the ear and the team can use their very creative imaginations to figure out why. It's entirely your call."

With that he removed him hold on the grimacing Reid's shoulder and stepped back, studying the young agent intently.

Reid huffed and scowled for a moment, but eventually had the good sense to made his excuses to the team that he needed an early night. This, they accepted without much provocation. Reid was never one for the late nights that Morgan and Prentiss championed. Rossi surreptitiously passed the pouting kid his room key card as he passed him sulkily and restrained himself from clipping the boy smartly round the ear for his attitude.

Loitering with the remaining BAU stragglers for long enough so as not to arose their suspicions, Rossi too made his excuses and began to trudge upstairs to his room. As angry as he was with Reid, he had only been bluffing when he threatened to march him forcibly upstairs in front of the others. He firmly believed that any matters of discipline ought to be handled privately, and therefore unless the kid _wanted_ to tell the other three about what was about to happen, they would never know.

Fishing the spare key card from his pocket, he quickly entered the room Reid would have to share with him tonight, and sighed when he saw the kid slouched in the chair he had previously vacated, clearly in the middle of a tantrum. Snapping the door shut behind him, he walked over to the bed that faced the chair the scowling Reid was currently occupying, and perched on the side of it, so that he was levelly faced with the darling doctor.

Arching an eyebrow, he fixed the boy with a stern stare.

"Explain yourself Spencer. This minute."

Turning his pouting face away from the now evidently angry older man, Reid muttered rudely.

"Well, when a donut and an éclair give each other a very special _hug,_ it results in a baby _do-clair."_

Rossi couldn't help but gape at the uncharacteristic waspishness of the young genius.

Standing up and reaching out, he firmly yanked the mutinous Spencer up out of his chair. Spinning him around, he landed a fast but fierce volley of swats across his slacks clad backside, and just as quickly, deposited him back in the armchair.

It took Reid a moment to register what had happened, before he let out a quiet whimper.

"Are you ready to talk to me without that disgraceful attitude now Spencer, or do I have to put you over my knee first?" demanded a less than impressed Rossi.

Looking up with now doleful eyes, the kid shook his head quickly.

Rossi sighed in relief somewhat, the quick flurry of swats had done the trick and Reid had visibly, and thankfully, deflated and dispensed with his adolescent demeanour.

"Good. Now for the second time, _explain yourself."_

Reid squirmed in his chair and quickly assessed his options. They were pretty bleak. Realising that the truth was the only viable choice, he licked his lips nervously and willed the words to travel from his brain to, and out of, his mouth.

"I..uhh, well I…you see, what happened was….well I mean, what it is, is…."

Feeling the gaze of SSA Rossi begin to infiltrate his soul, Reid closed his eyes in despair and pressed on as best he could, aware that full and frank disclosure was utterly inevitable and deciding to just bite the bullet.

"I skipped out on desk duty without telling Hotch. I deliberately lied to you when I got here. I didn't and don't have permission to be out in the field. I know that you're probably also angry with me because this area is notorious, and I came here alone and without anyone knowing where I was if anything were to happen."

With that, he ducked his head as the foolishness and selfishness of what he had done begun to consume him. This was right up in there in the top ten stupidest things he'd ever done. Rossi was going to kill him, and then, whatever was left of him, if there was anything, Hotch would systematically dispose of. He had to be the dumbest genius on the face of the earth he concluded wryly.

Rossi stared intently at the kid, as rapid micro bursts of emotion played across his youthful face. A combination of his extensive profiling experience and his growing Reid experience, allowed him to accurately surmise what was going on inside his head.

"What you did today Spencer, was inexcusable. It was selfish, dangerous and pointless. We get it, you don't like desk duty. News flash kid, you're not _supposed_ to. You think Hotch likes it? You think anyone likes it? Not liking it does _not_ give you the right to act like a spoiled, petulant child. Anything could have happened to you today, absolutely anything."

Rossi took a moment to take a breath, fighting not to raise his voice with the now very sombre looking Reid.

"Besides the danger you put yourself in today, did you stop even for a _second_ to consider the potential consequences for Hotch if Strauss were to find out about this little stunt? A unit chief, not knowing where his agent is, when his agent is supposed to be _right under his nose_. How do you think that would go down Spencer?"

One look at the now anguished look on the kids face told him the thought hadn't even crossed the highway to get to the point where it would be capable of crossing his mind.

"Yes" he said in a now dangerously soft voice, "quite the sad state of affairs isn't it, when the actions of a hard headed, childish agent could cause serious damage to the career of a man who's given _everything_ to it."

The loaded speech hit its mark. Reid's eyes widened and his lips twitched as the words of the elder man rattled around his brain. Closing his eyes he cursed his own stupidity. The guilt that bubbled in his stomach was making him feel nauseous.

Dropping his head to his chest, he choked out, with some difficulty.

"I'm sorry Rossi. I'm so sorry….I didn't think, I'd never mean to…..I'm…I'm just so sorry."

Rossi softened somewhat, he was well aware of the close bond that existed between Reid and Hotch, it was very similar to the one that existed between Aaron and himself. He didn't like having to cause Reid to feel so much guilt, but if that's what it took to keep the kid safe, he'd do it again in a heartbeat.

"I know Spencer, I know you didn't think and I know you'd never mean to cause any damage to Hotch, but do you see how it could have so easily happened?"

Reid looked up in misery.

"Yes Rossi, I do…it'll never happen again."

Feeling his jaw tighten at the mere thought of ever having to repeat this conversation with the youngest team member again, the elder agent ground out.

"Oh I know it won't Reid, I intend to make damn sure of that right now."

"Stand up."

Reid looked up in consternation, clearly knowing what the older man intended.

He had been spanked by Rossi before, twice actually. Whilst it was a certainly unpleasant experience in its own right, the issue that was flying around his mind, made it doubly so.

"Uhh..but, but Rossi?"

"Yes Spencer?"

"Well….it's just, you know…Hotch is probably going to wear me out when we get back…."

"Oh I don't think there's a 'probably' needed in that sentence Reid" came the pleasant reply.

"Right" agreed the squirming doctor nervously, "so…you know…. _you_ don't have to."

"Oh really? Well, I think I do. I _also_ think if I have to ask you to stand up once more you're going to very sorry" replied Rossi, in a tone that brooked no argument.

Cringing in defeat, the young agent slowly got to his feet.

Jumping briskly off his bed based perch, Rossi lost no time in plopping himself down in the seat just vacated by the now twitching Spencer. Not seeing any reason to prolong the obviously remorseful kid's misery, he gently reached out and took a hold of his wrist. Guiding him over his knee, he stifled a groan when the forlorn doctor let out an involuntary whimper. He hated punishing Reid every bit as much as he had always hated punishing Aaron.

Wrapping one arm around the boy's waist, he raised his outside knee slightly higher so that Spencer's soon to be warm backside was raised higher into the firing line. Closing his eyes briefly in an effort to summon up his resolve, he quickly reminded himself that this was for the kids own good. Raising his arm high in the air, he brought down the first swat on the upturned bottom across his lap. The boy's torso stiffened somewhat in response, but otherwise Reid made no reply.

Quickly settling into a familiar rhythm, Rossi spanked Spencer's backside with methodical precision. He ensured that every portion of the boy's rear was peppered with searing swats in a logical cycle, before starting another volley of swats.

Reid's attempts at stoicism were starting to dwindle as the heat began to mount across his rear, and the soft strains of whimpering and sniffling could be heard intertwined with the sharp sounds of Rossi's hard hand coming down on the kids soft backside, over and over again.

Closing his eyes once more in distaste for what he was about to do, the elder man tipped the now openly crying Spencer forwards and began raining down swat after stinging swat on the now exposed sit spots of the chastised doctor.

Reid yelped and began squirming vigorously in response.

Smiling a small smile, at the similarities between the way Spencer and Hotch reacted to having their backsides warmed, Rossi finished his onslaught of the kids sit spots and began a new progression of swats at the top of the whimpering agent's posterior. As he systematically delivered several more rounds of stinging swats he stopped for a brief moment to rub the small of the now wailing Reid's back comfortingly.

"Stand up, buddy" he ordered gently.

As Reid clambered off his knee with almost hilarious haste and with a look of fervent relief dancing in his very watery eyes, Rossi grimaced.

Steeling himself, he looked at his reprobate sternly.

"Pants down please Spencer, and back over."

Predictably the kid's eyes widened with horror, and he shook his head frantically, throwing his hands back to protect his presumably glowing rear.

Striving to make his tone as firm as possible and certainly firmer than he felt, the supervising agent spoke quietly.

"Reid, pants down and get back over my knee. Do _not_ make me do both for you."

Cringing at the thoughts of the lingering threat coming to fruition, Spencer very reluctantly and whilst looking every bit the hard done by puppy dog, unzipped his slacks and bent back over the awaiting knee.

Sighing somewhat fondly at the kid's chance taking, Rossi rolled his eyes and pulled the boxers that remained up, down to Reid's knees.

Reid groaned in response and muttered something inaudible under his breath, which Rossi chose to ignore.

Wrapping a tight arm around the doctor's waist once more, he brought his hand down on the now bared and crimson backside, once again. Reid again yelped and whimpered and Rossi instinctively knew that fresh tears were making their way down the boy's face.

Resolving to wrap up the punishment as quickly as possible, he set about covering every inch of the exposed backside with hard and deliberately placed swats. Reid began squirming vigorously around his lap, presumably aghast at the loss of his albeit thin layer of protection.

Merely tightening his hold on the wriggling agent with ease, the elder of the two continued with the well earned spanking. When he tipped Spencer forward once more to tend to his sit spots, he felt him go limp across his knee and heard the loud crying transition into to quiet sobbing.

Taking this as a merciful indicator that a lesson had been well learned, Rossi landed a few last token swats to the each cheek of the ruby red backside and dropped his hand away from the sore bottom and instead deposited it on the small of the repentant Reid's back.

He let the kid cry himself out whilst still laid over his lap, all the while rubbing his back softly and murmuring soft words of reassurance and forgiveness. When Spencer eventually made to stand up, he stood with him and made a fuss of placing the armchair back in its original position, it having been moved slightly due to all Reid's wriggling.

The kid appreciated the subtle gesture and quickly pulled his pants back up to their original location, letting out a low and involuntary hiss as the albeit soft fabric rubbed against his smarting backside.

Hearing the expected gasp, Rossi turned around and surveyed the now fully dressed Reid with paternal fondness. He looked about ten years younger with his red eyes, more tousled than usual hair and his rueful expression. The seasoned agent observed the sniffling boy for a few moments with a genial expression before silently opening his arms wide and arching his eyebrow in the kid's direction.

He chuckled when Reid shot into them with more speed than he thought the awkward genius was capable of. Wrapping his arms around his slender frame he held him tightly and again told him without hesitation that he was completely forgiven and that he was proud of the manner in which he had accepted his punishment, being answered with muffled responses, due to the fact that Spencer currently had his face buried into his chest.

When the two men broke apart, Rossi ruffled Reid's hair affectionately.

"Why don't you go on and get washed up for bed Spencer and I'll see if I can get one of those god awful documentaries you love so much on the box."

As the boy wonder nodded his head happily and darted into the bathroom, Rossi let out a soft laugh.

 _If only my two had any idea how alike they really were…._ he thought to himself as he scoured the television in the corner in an attempt to find what would most likely be the most boring thing he had been subjected to since his last and lengthy session with his divorce lawyer.

Having found a show that looked suitably horrific and that he therefore knew Reid would love, he stretched out on the three seater couch the room also housed and suddenly felt exhausted.

 _I'm really getting too old for this_ he mumbled to himself, not really meaning it, even to himself.

As Spencer bounded out of the bathroom, seemingly nearly back to his usual excitable self, Rossi smiled in relief. Patting the space beside him, he chuckled when Reid approached it tentatively and then turned towards the bed and grabbed two fluffy pillows.

Placing them carefully on the sofa, he very gingerly set himself down on it, ignoring with dignity the rolling eyes of the senior agent beside him.

The two men were soon engrossed in the factual show the TV was showing, with Rossi much more interested in than he would he ever care to admit.

"Hey Rossi?" Reid suddenly said.

Glancing towards the now sweatpants and sweatshirt clad prodigy, he raised his eyebrows in unspoken response.

"Is there...well, is there any chance you can make Hotch go easy on me? He'll listen to you" the suddenly puppy eyed doctor pleaded.

Snorting, Rossi reached out and mussed the boy's unruly hair in affection.

"Oh no, not a chance kiddo. I punished you for the lying and putting yourself in danger, you still disobeyed Hotch and what he chooses to do about that is between you and him. Nice try though."

Scowling, the genius ground out angrily "my life is so _unfair."_

…

" _ **OWW…"**_

"Sorry Rossi." __


	4. The Return of the Prodigal Son

The SVU containing Dr Reid and driven by SSA Rossi trundled along the motorway, which was perhaps the only reason why the pouting, whining and sighing doctor _hadn't_ received a warning slap on the wrist.

The older man's patience was wearing thin, and fast. As the aggrieved Spencer started up yet another round of whining, Rossi braked at a very well timed red light. Reaching out, he rapped the boy sharply on his nearest wrist.

Letting out a surprised yelp, Spencer eyed him reproachfully whilst rubbing the unexpected sting out of his wrist with exaggerated care.

Keeping a calm demeanour, Rossi stared the younger man down with stern eyes, and Reid finally had the good sense to drop his gaze. Adopting his former purely "Aaron voice", that was now his "Aaron/Reid" voice, he spoke firmly but fairly to the still mutinous looking Spencer.

"Keep it up kid. Just you keep this attitude up and I will pull this car over and put you over my knee here and now. I don't care where we are, you do _not_ speak to me in that insolent tone. I said no. No we are not stopping off at that convention that you _simply have to see._ You are AWOL. You are not on vacation, you need to get that through your head. Do you understand me?"

As Reid shook his head in the affirmative, with a considerable degree of obvious misery, the older man softened his tone somewhat.

"Putting off seeing Hotch will only make it harder in the long run Spencer."

Reid flushed and looked away in poorly concealed embarrassment. He hadn't realised he'd been that transparent. Then again, nothing ever did get pass Rossi. Squirming in his seat, partly in deference to his emotional discomfort and partially due to his still sensitised backside, he looked furtively towards the elder agent as the car began moving once more.

"Please talk to him Rossi, you're the only one he listens to" he pleaded unashamedly. "Please, he's going to _kill_ me."

"You'd miss me if I were to be brutally murdered, you know you would" he added with a pout.

Rossi rolled his eyes at the doctor's dramatics. Hotch was strict for sure, but he wasn't homicidal.

"Don't do the crime if you can't do the time kid" he merely replied, albeit pleasantly.

Reid scowled heavily, but when a warning glance was sternly sent his way, he relaxed his features into a more socially acceptable sulking expression.

The next ten minutes saw the government issue vehicle pull into FBI headquarters. As he parked the car in the allocated BAU lot, Rossi glanced over at the now completely silent and morose looking Spencer.

Sighing, he unbuckled his seatbelt and placed a gentle hand on the kid's shoulder. Reid looked up in response, and Rossi felt a pang as he saw the sadness contained in the peering brown eyes.

"He's going to be cross with you, but for the most part he'll just be relieved you're ok Spencer. Now, how about we just go on and get this over with?"

With Reid's grudging nod in the affirmative, the two men exited the car and made their way through the many security screenings and into the austere home of the federal agency. As they drew closer to the BAU division, Reid began lagging behind.

Sighing, Rossi threw an arm over his shoulder and propelled him gently forwards. As he suspected the bull pen was completely empty. He could however see that Hotch's office was occupied, and judging by the look on Reid's face he had deduced this fact for himself as well. Prodding the wayward agent forwards softly once more, he stopped when they got to Spencer's desk.

Pointing to the prodigy's desk chair he instructed.

"Wait here, I need to have a chat with Hotch. He'll call you when he's ready."

When the boy's face lit up with gratitude and relief, he quickly shook his head in the negative.

"Nope, not the kind of chat you'd like Spencer, now sit here and don't you dare move" he said, dashing the kids hopes and placing the scowl back on his face. Choosing to ignore this, Rossi turned on his heel and made his way quickly to the unit chief's office.

Without bothering to knock, as per his custom, he opened the door and strode in purposefully.

Hotch looked up from his pile of files in surprise, so engrossed that he hadn't heard the two enter the communal area. Quickly opening his mouth with panic etched on his face, he was silenced when Rossi held his hands up in a placating gesture.

"Reid is fine. He's completely fine Aaron. He's at his desk."

Hotch quickly stood and glanced out his office window to ascertain the veracity of this statement for himself. Seeing the slumped stature of a sad looking Spencer at his desk, he closed his eyes and felt the surge of relief pass through him.

As he made his way to dart out of his office, he was surprised when the firm hand of Rossi came down on his upper arm, effectively preventing him from moving a muscle. Looking up in confusion, Hotch was highly discomforted when he saw the stern expression on his old mentors face. It was a look he knew well and therefore he had no trouble in diagnosing it as the "you're in trouble" face.

However, for the life of him he couldn't think as to why Rossi would be mad with _him._

"Dave?" he muttered questioningly, slightly aggravated that he was still subject to being made to feel like an errant rookie just through one look and one grip of the man that had taught him so much.

"Sit down Aaron, I want to have a chat with you before you go and tear the kid a new one" Rossi explained, in amiable enough tones.

As Hotch opened his mouth to protest he was cut off with a curt order.

" _Now_ please" ground out Rossi, in a much sterner voice.

Scowling somewhat, the unit chief made his way back to his desk chair and plopped down heavily.

Settling himself in the "guest" chair in front of his protégées desk, he fixed the evidently confused Hotch with a stern glare and was rewarded when the younger man shuffled somewhat uncomfortably.

Stifling a grin stemming from the realisation that some things just never change, Rossi began to give Hotch a rundown of everything that had happened out in the field, and all that had happened after Reid had crashed the party.

"So, I spanked him pretty thoroughly last night. I'm pretty sure I got the message across" he concluded, studying the intently listening agents face as he spoke.

"Am I right in assuming that you will be having a _discussion_ with him also?" he inquired, arching an eyebrow at the now grim looking SSA Hotchner.

Nodding his head immediately and jerkily, Hotch ground out.

"You're damn right you are. I still can't believe that he'd actually do this, anything could have happened" he all but snarled. Running his hand through his dark hair he leant back and murmured to himself more than anything "what am I going to do with him."

He was jerked out his reverie before he even had time to settle into it, when the firm tones of Rossi replied somewhat angrily.

"What you should have done in the _first_ place Aaron, that's what you're going to do with him."

Hotch leant forwards in his chair, levelling eye contact between the two men once more and merely stared at the clearly agitated Rossi in bewilderment. Seeing that the elder man wasn't going to provide him with any guidance he eventually managed a not so dazzling.

"Huh?"

Closing his eyes in irritation, Rossi pinched the bridge of his nose and willed himself not to raise his voice with his currently aggravating mentee.

"Aaron Hotchner, do you _really_ mean to sit there and tell me that there were no blatantly obvious warning signs indicating that Reid was about to do something stupid. Maybe not necessarily as stupid as what he _did_ do, but something reckless nonetheless. There was no acting out, there was no tantrum like behaviour and there was no disobedience or insolence?"

When Hotch didn't answer him and merely flushed whilst dropping his head, Rossi continued.

"Well, there must not have been right? Because, if there was, you would have dealt with it before it could fester and become an issue. An issue that placed the kid's life in danger. You would have intervened long before then and did what was necessary. Isn't that right Aaron?"

Hotch looked up and cringed. He suddenly knew _exactly_ why Rossi was angry with him and he was suddenly angry with himself. He _hadn't_ intervened when he should have done and in the manner that he should have done, and the end result was Reid potentially being put in harm's way.

Surveying the squirming agent, Rossi knew the realisation had sunk in. He probably wouldn't be opting to be so hard on the unit chief, if he hadn't already addressed this issue with him. Well, he _thought_ he had addressed this issue with him.

"Do you understand why I'm angry with you _now_ Aaron?" he asked softly.

Clearing his throat, Hotch got to the point, as only Hotch could.

"Yes Dave, I do."

"Reid was acting out the very second you guys left for the case, but I didn't punish him the way I should have for it. I let him away with far too much and it snowballed into him thinking he could pull this kind of stunt, which put him in danger."

With that he dropped his head once more, feeling a pool of guilt begin to ebb and flow in his stomach.

Beginning to feel sorry for the remorseful agent, Rossi strove to pull himself together and continue with the lesson he intended to re-teach his unusually wayward federal offspring.

"Why Aaron? Why would you neglect your duty to that kid like that?" he inquired in a much sterner than he felt voice, and already knowing the answer.

Hotch squirmed for another second before answering, in the sad voice that the elder man hadn't heard for a while and that still pulled on his heartstrings.

"Because I hate punishing him" he murmured miserably.

Rossi nodded slowly, having received the answer he had fully expected.

"Do you think I ever liked having to punish you Aaron?" he asked quietly.

Hotch shook his head slowly in the negative and shifted guiltily in his chair.

"Not easy being the bad guy is it?" Rossi added, smiling genially.

Hotch looked up and smirked somewhat, clearly remembering the same memories that were currently playing through the older man's head. The bulk of which involved a much younger and much sulkier Aaron Hotchner lamenting as to how much of a hardass his boss was and how he'd never be like that with his own team.

Leaning back and rubbing his hands over his face, Hotch sighed.

"No, it's not and it's impolite to say I told you so Dave" he huffed.

Chuckling, Rossi stood up and pushed his chair under the desk and leant on it.

"Alright Aaron, you go on and have your talk with Spencer. However, when you're done you and I are going to have a little talk as well. Is that clear?"

Hotch merely gaped at him.

Seeing this, the elder agent narrowed his eyes his younger, apparently dumbstruck, counterpart.

"I said, is that clear Aaron?" he repeated firmly.

Stammering over his own words, the surprised Hotch stuttered out.

"What? You can't mean…

"It's been…

…."far too long apparently" Rossi finished for him sternly.

Staring at his mentor aghast, Hotch tried again to reason with the irate man.

"Dave….c'mon, I'm the…

He was cut off. Abruptly and smartly.

"Aaron Hotchner if you dare attempt to tell me that as you're the unit chief now, I cannot deal with your complete and utter foolishness and self absorbed behaviour, then you're going to be very sorry" Rossi interjected in as stern as voice as he now really _did_ feel.

Looking slightly abashed, Hotch dropped his gaze and nodded miserably.

"Thought so" said the older of the two angrily.

"I'm sorry Dave, I didn't mean that. It was instinctive self preservation" Hotch offered with a weak smile.

Snorting and rolling his eyes at the shared dramatic flair that was evident between Hotch and Reid, the now calmed Rossi nodded his head in clear indication of accepting the proffered apology.

"That's ok, now I'm going home. You are going to go and deal with Reid immediately, and then you are going to come _straight_ to my place so that _I_ can deal with _you_. Is that crystal clear?"

Squirming and feeling his face grow warm, Hotch nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Taking pity on his long time student, Rossi reached out and clapped a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder. Hotch watched as he exited his office and placed the same comforting gesture on a still slumped Reid's shoulder, before leaving the building without a backwards glance.

Dropping his head in his hands the unit chief let out a groan. It had been over two years since he'd last felt the _displeasure_ of his still mentor, and it wasn't an experience he ever thought he'd have to go through again. In hindsight, he realised that this hope was pretty foolish.

Letting out a sigh, he resolved to teach Reid the lesson he ought to have taught him six days ago. Cursing himself for letting this situation blow up in his face, he reached into his desk drawer for the second time in a mere two weeks and drew out the hairbrush he hated to use. Grabbing a nearby file, he flung the contents on his desk and inserted the now completely hidden from view brush.

Reid gulped when he heard the door of the raised office open. He spluttered on the second gulp when he saw the expression on his boss's face.

 _Goodbye cruel world_ he thought miserably.

Breezing past his genius's desk, Hotch didn't pause and merely snapped "with me" over his shoulder as he continued on his path, file under his arm.

Scrambling to his feet, Reid trotted along after his silent supervising agent. He winced when he spied the file under Hotch's arm, knowing exactly what it contained. As they came to a halt outside the all too familiar conference room, Hotch turned and took a hold of the equally silent Reid's arm and gently pushed him through it.

As the lights flicked on, Reid took his usual stance in the room where Hotch would sit across from him and ream him at length. Sure enough, Hotch leaned against a table and fixed the contrite looking doctor with a glare that would make the stomach of the most seasoned serial killer churn.

"I'm disappointed in you Spencer" he said simply, knowing this would resonate more deeply than any long winded lecture.

Predictably, Reid dropped his head to the floor and shuffled sadly.

"I know sir I know…I'm really sorry" he whispered in a misery laden reply.

"I know you are, I do know that. However, I also owe you an apology."

Reid looked up in bewilderment.

"Huh?"

"I should have spanked you the first day you started acting up. I didn't. I definitely should have spanked you the second, I didn't. The third day and the fourth day as well, and I didn't. I didn't because I find it difficult to cause you any pain, and I selfishly put that before your welfare. I can only promise you that it will _never_ happen again."

Reid gaped at his boss.

"Hotch" he all but squealed, "this isn't your fault. _I_ did this. _I_ decided to do what I did."

Smiling slightly, the elder agent replied.

"Yes you did, however, if I had taken the appropriate actions at the appropriate time, do you think you would have?"

The young doctor didn't answer, not being able to lie his senior agent but not wanting to confirm what he was saying either.

Hotch knowing full well the dilemma Reid was going through felt his anger deflate somewhat. Even now, knowing he was about to get his backside warmed, the kid still wanted to protect his feelings.

"How about we get this over and done with Spencer? he said softly.

Nodding his head slightly, the now wide eyed Reid managed to stammer a "yes sir."

Hotch quickly stood and pulled a straight backed chair from the nearby round table and planted it squarely in the middle of the room, and tucked the file he had brought with him under it. Plopping himself down on it, he patted his knee as an indication for the now twitching Spencer to get over it.

Warily approaching his awaiting boss, Reid couldn't help but stammer out.

"Rossi told you he already spanked me right? So you know, technically….this is like, you know, double jeopardy."

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Hotch merely arched a stern eyebrow at the stalling kid and glanced meaningfully towards the manila folder by his feet.

Heeding the unspoken warning, Reid shuffled dolefully over to his executioner and allowed himself to be pulled over his knee. He was slightly taken aback at the fact he'd been allowed to retain his pants, but this was laid to rest when Hotch expertly reached under him and unbuttoned his slacks, before pulling them along with his boxers down to his knees.

Feeling the cool air hit his upturned and bared backside for the second time in as many days Reid couldn't help but whimper.

Hearing the squeak of misery make its way out of his reprobate, Hotch grimaced at his own stupidity. This could have all been taken care of days ago but for his own self centred behaviour.

Wrapping a firm hand around the kid's waist and lifting his outside knee to position him better for his coming lesson, Hotch raised his arm and lost no time in bringing down the first stinging swat Reid had earned himself, wanting to get the spanking over and done with as quickly as possible.

As always, and perhaps due to his already well spanked status, Reid yelped loudly in response to Hotch's hand making contact with his upturned bottom. The hand came down again and again, methodically and precisely, relighting the fire that Rossi had started a mere twenty four hours previously.

Reid's pale bottom quickly pinked up under Hotch's hard and deliberate hand. He was a painfully efficient spanker, making sure that the pain in one particular area had reached its utmost peak, before moving on to deliver the same treatment to another area. As he dished out the kids well earned punishment, Hotch fought to keep a hold of his resolve as Reid began openly crying much earlier than usual.

As he closed his eyes in distaste for his own actions, Hotch tipped Reid forwards slightly to extend the same treatment the rest of his backside had received, to his sit spots. This drew strangled yelps from the young doctor, but Hotch was impressed by his efforts to stay in position. As he applied a thick coat of red to the tender curve of the now sobbing kid's thighs and backside, he moved back up to start a new and equally thorough cycle of swats.

As he appraised the now gleaming red backside across his lap, he steeled himself to do what was required to bring the punishment to a close. Reaching down, he flipped open the manila file and extracted the heavy oak hairbrush that lay within.

"No, no I'm sorry….please not that, I'm sorry sir…" came the anguished plea, interspersed with copious sniffling and snuffling.

"Sorry Reid, you have _got_ to learn" Hotch replied as sternly as possible, whilst wanting with all his might to throw the hairbrush in the nearest bin and pluck his youngest off his knee and into a hug, but knowing that he couldn't repeat the mistake that had led to this point. Ever again.

Raising the brush high, the senior agent set about using it to its fullest effect in illuminating his wayward genius to the error of his ways. Reid began his first bout of squirming in response, nearly wriggling his way off the elder man's lap.

Calmly repositioning the doctor across his knee once more, Hotch took a firmer grip of his waist and peppered his backside with firm and deliberate swats. With the passing of each thwack of the brush, Reid's open sobbing began more muted, and his struggling began to whittle out into the odd jerk in response to a more well aimed swat. Soon he was laying completely limp over his boss's knee and sobbing quietly.

Knowing that Reid had nearly had enough, and being nearly overcome with gratitude for the fact, Hotch landed a last flurry of well placed swats on the boy's now very tender sit spots and dropped the brush from his hand immediately. Placing his previous spanking hand loosely on the small of his agents back, he began to murmur similar words of reassurance and forgiveness that Rossi had spoken previously. After quite a while the crying ceased and Hotch felt Reid's torso relax against him.

A few minutes later, being all cried out and suddenly aware that his bare backside was still on display, Reid started to stand up, and was helped by Hotch who then once again turned away to give the boy some privacy to right his clothing. As the strangled hiss let him know that the slacks of his young agent where once again back where they should, Hotch turned around to survey him with a parental air of affection.

The kid's hair was wildly tousled, well, more so than usual. His eyes were bleary and red rimmed and his face was flushed. As he stood rubbing his eyes dramatically, Hotch smiled his crooked smile, and waited patiently for Reid to look at him. This he eventually did, with a small rueful pout playing about his lips.

Hotch for the second time in recent memory opened his arms wide to his incorrigible youngest and was slightly winded with the force the young doctor exerted in shooting into them. Wrapping his arms tightly around Reid he held him close to him, and was rewarded when the kid melted into his torso. When they broke apart, the younger man looked at him with a serious expression.

"I really _am_ sorry sir, it'll never happen again" he said clearly.

Moving forward and ruffling the already manic mop of his prodigy's hair, Hotch leaned into to his personal space and replied softly.

"I know you are and I know it won't Spencer. It's ok, you're completely forgiven now and we never need to speak of it again, ok?"

The sandy brown head bobbed up and down in happy agreement, causing Hotch to chuckle.

"Yes sir, thank you."

"You can drop the sir now kid, you're not in trouble anymore. It's Hotch" the senior agent replied fondly.

Reid grinned shyly in response, and began chattering animatedly about some statistic or other as Hotch gently propelled him from the conference room, to stop by his desk to grab his things so he could drive him home.

As the two drove through the Washington streets, with Reid squirming in his seat, their chatter was comfortable and jovial, despite the dispute that had raged about the correct way to profile the stunning blonde that had begun frequenting the BAU's favourite after work hang-out.

As they arrived at the kid's apartment, the elder man ruffled his hair once more and bade him good night.

As he was just about to close the passenger side door, Reid was suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"Oh and Spencer?" the unit chief suddenly said.

"Yeah Hotch?"

"You still owe me two weeks desk duty buddy, starting afresh from tomorrow. Clear?."

He snorted and pretended not to hear the profanity that slipped out of the kid's mouth as he nodded his head sulkily and moodily shut the door.

 _Yeah yeah, love you too buddy_ he thought to himself as he turned the car around away from the direction of his own home, feeling the beginnings of sulkiness building on his own face.

As he pulled up in front of the impressive home of SSA David Rossi, he killed the engine and sighed as a battle between his own sense of self preservation and his conscious raged in his mind.

 _Come on, just go in, how bad can it be?_

Very bad.

 _Yeah well, you deserve it. Just go and get it over and done with._

Could just turn the car around.

 _You just spanked Spencer for running away._

Lock my door, what's he going to do, break it in?

 _Your actions put Spencer in danger._

With that last thought winning above all and any other, he quickly exited the car and found himself knocking on his mentor's door.

As it swung open, he winced at the stern expression on Rossi's face.

"Ok Aaron. You know the drill, in you go, and find a corner."

…..

TBC


	5. Apologies, Absolution and Aaron

Aaron Hotchner felt his face flush once more as he considered his current and precarious position. He was a fully accredited former district's attorney, a seasoned and talented psychological profiler, not to mention he was the head of one of the most elite teams in the world. He was also stood face first in a corner of his old mentor's home, waiting for a spanking.

Stifling a groan at the blunt realisation that ran through his mind, he leant his forehead against the cool wall and slumped his shoulders miserably. He didn't know if he should be comforted or alarmed by how quickly he had fallen back into the familiarity of Rossi's discipline process.

Sure, the older man had chewed him out plenty and had given him a few warning swats here and there, but for the last two or so years, he mercifully hadn't received the full on _Rossi treatment_. Hotch sighed as he felt the muscles in his legs being to protest at his lengthy stationary position. Just as he was trying to remember what that visiting medical speaker had said about deep vein thromboses, he was rudely jerked from his self pitying reverie.

"Alright Aaron, out you come and get yourself front and centre please" the quiet voice had instructed.

Closing his eyes somewhat, Hotch suddenly felt very attached to his corner. It wasn't so bad really, it was cosy when you thought about it in fact. That little crevice in that was just under his eye line was perfect for a toothbrush holder, and the plug socket would provide for most of his daily electrical needs. No, all in all, this corner was perfectly habitable. He'd just stay here. Forever.

"Aaron Hotchner, it will _not_ end well for you if I have to come and get you" the now curt voice had warned.

Sighing and admitting defeat, the younger man bade adieu to his angular shelter, and shuffled obediently to the presumably lecture receiving position the older man was sternly pointing to. Leaning against the nearby sofa, he squirmed as the intense gaze of his mentor fell on him.

As Rossi watched the uncomfortable shuffling of his reprobate, he suppressed a fond smile. Aaron never changed, he looked the same right now as he did the very first time he was about to get his backside warmed. Forcing himself back to the present, the elder agent fixed his younger counterpart with a stern glare.

"Ok Aaron. Start talking" he instructed simply, albeit in a tone that brooked no argument.

When Hotch merely stared at him in confusion, he sighed, but nonetheless he elaborated.

"You really think you were going to get off with the explanation you gave me back at the office? You must really think I've gotten soft. Well, sorry to burst your bubble but I want a full and frank explanation as to why you didn't deal with Spencer when you should have and more to the point, _how_ you should have."

Hotch couldn't help it, he scowled. Heavily.

They'd _been over this_. Why did Rossi always have to make him analyse his screw ups to death.

"I told you Dave" he said more curtly than he had perhaps intended, "I don't like punishing Reid, so I didn't. I messed up, ok? I messed up and I'm sorry, so can we just get this over with please, there's no need to dissect the ins and outs of every decision I did or didn't make."

Biting back the tongue lashing he was about to dish out for the insolent tone his now pouting protégée was using, Rossi took a firm hold of his temper. Aaron was as stubborn as a mule and if wanted to get to the bottom of his behaviour, he had to be patient. Well, he already knew what was at the bottom of the agent's behaviour of course, but it was necessary for Hotch to be illuminated as well.

"We're not dissecting anything Aaron" he replied calmly, "we're just going to figure out what caused you to act the way you did so we can ensure it doesn't happen again."

"Isn't that what you're about to beat my ass for" the angry younger man shot straight back. The profiler in him knew that the reason he was lashing at his boss but-not-boss, wasn't that he was angry with him, but that he was angry with himself.

Raising an eyebrow, Rossi studied the unusually visibly emotional man before him intently. It wasn't like the kid to get so hot and bothered, and the experienced agent knew it was because Hotch felt guilty and didn't know how to deal with it. It was perhaps a cruel irony that a man could be so intuitively knowing about the best way to deal with other people's feelings, and be so clueless as to his own.

"Nope" he eventually answered the now slightly flushed looking unit chief, "but it _is_ partially why I'm about to _spank_ your ass. Before I do that however, we both need to know what led you to make the mistake that you made with Spencer while I was away."

When the young agent merely glared at him mutinously, Rossi sighed and reluctantly went for the kill shot.

"You know, the mistake you made that put Spencer's life in danger. That put his health and well being on the line. That led him to be hundreds of miles away from home when he was supposed to within twenty five feet of you. _That_ mistake."

Hotch flinched and looked away, the angry mask slipping off his face, being immediately replaced with fleeting expressions of guilt and regret.

"Please Dave" he all but whispered with round eyes, "please don't…"

Feeling the tug on his heart strings that only Aaron was capable of pulling on, the elder agent closed his eyes against the small and sad voice that replaced the previous growling tones of his now puppy eyed protégée.

"Then don't make me Aaron" he replied simply, but with an audible note of sadness.

Hotch merely nodded his head quietly in unspoken agreement.

Studying the dark haired kid for another moment, Rossi sighed.

"Let's start this again, shall we?"

The dark mop of hair bobbed up and down in another bout of silent acquiescence.

"Good. Now, what was the real reason that caused you to fail in your duty to Spencer?" the now suddenly very tired Rossi asked, in a voice that belied how much he just wanted to hug his silly but well intentioned miscreant.

Hotch tried. He really did try. He opened his mouth several times to answer, before it would appear that some bizarre form of reverse gravitational pull caused him to clamp it tightly shut. Over and over again.

Rossi had patiently waited for the younger man to verbalise his thoughts. He was a lawyer after all, he was good with words. As time trickled on however, it would appear that in this instance, and perhaps for the first time ever, that words simply failed Aaron Hotchner.

Eventually taking pity on his suddenly muted charge, Rossi softened his otherwise firm facial features.

"What are you afraid of Aaron?" he eventually asked, throwing the kid a lifeline. Much like how one would list the first two letters of a word to a child that was attempting to learn how to spell for the first time.

It worked. The younger agent grasped the lifeline and opened his mouth nervously once more.

"That he'll…Spencer I mean…that Spencer will grow to hate me" he murmured softly after a few more attempts of forcing his vocal chords to cooperate with his brains signals.

 _Bingo_ thought the older man wryly.

Looking his now vigorously squirming ward directly in the eye, he felt his face soften further.

"I'm going to ask you a question Aaron. You'll like it actually, because it's a yes or no question. That's the only answer I want from you, either a yes or a no. I also want the unequivocal truth. It probably goes without saying that I will know if you give me anything else, correct?"

A forlorn nod was offered in response. Hotch knew better than to lie to his mentor, he had learned that lesson _very_ early on in their now lengthy relationship.

"Do you hate me Aaron?" eventually came the blunt, oh so blunt, inquiry.

Hotch felt himself gape unintelligibly in response.

"What..how can you…what?" he eventually managed to squeak somewhat nonsensically, in a much more Reid-like voice, than his own.

"Do you hate me Aaron?" Rossi repeated firmly. "A yes or no answer, right now. _Do you hate me?"_

"No!" the unit chief blurted out loudly, shock etched in every line of his handsome face.

"How can you think that I'd hate you? Why are you even _asking_ me that right now?"

Throwing his hands up in the air with the ease of a man born and bred into a fiery Italian family, Rossi again pinned the confused Hotch with a stern stare.

"Well, _why on earth_ wouldn't you Aaron? I mean to say, I can't remember how many times I've spanked you. I definitely can't remember how many times I've grounded you, and I'm positively positive that the amount of times I've chewed you out isn't capable of being converted into any known numerical value. So why _wouldn't_ you hate me?"

Hotch felt a lazy draft wrap it's presence around his tonsils as he gaped once more at the bewildering man in front of him.

"Because…well, because I deserved every spanking you've ever given me, every grounding I ever got and every chewing out you ever gave me, why the hell would I hate you for that?" the young man all but spluttered in response.

Merely raising an eyebrow in slightly amused reply, the older man waited patiently. He didn't have to wait long. The dawning of realisation quickly crossed the face of one SSA Aaron Hotchner with an almost comedic haste.

Snorting in derision, the BAU chief glared half heartedly at his always _just one step ahead_ mentor.

"Cute Dave, that's really cute" he growled.

Well, attempted to growl. Certainly more Simba-like than Mufasa thought the elder agent with paternal fondness.

"Oh I thought so" agreed Rossi not even bothering to hide his smugly amused expression.

Rolling his eyes, Hotch threw his hands up in defeat.

"Ok ok, I get it. I was being irrational" he admitted.

"No kid, you weren't" Dave replied quietly.

"I wasn't?" Aaron questioned, in now depressingly well versed confusion.

Tiling his head slightly as his bewildered looking charge, Rossi shook his head.

"Nope. You weren't… Do you honestly think I've never had those same doubts? Those worries before I've had to take you in hand? Do you think that I didn't drive myself crazy thinking that you'd hate me, that you'd resent me silently and that you'd eventually grow to fear me?"

The once again gawping expression on the profilers face gave him the answer he had expected.

"Dave…I have _never_ once feared you _or_ hated you. You have to believe that" Hotch suddenly pleaded, horrified that he'd put his friend through such angst.

Holding up his hands in a placating gesture, Rossi halted the younger man in his tracks before he could get himself worked up.

"I _know_ that Aaron. I do, but I only know that from experience. Lots of it. You and Reid have a great relationship, but it's still growing and developing. The belief that you're doing the right thing for the right reasons, you're not born with that. You develop that, over time. It's completely natural to have those doubts and worries, but you _cannot_ allow them to prevent you doing what you _need_ to do to make sure that Reid is safe. Even from himself, you got that?"

Hotch felt his head move up and down in agreement once more.

"Good" Rossi replied firmly before his face broke into an irrepressible grin at some long ago memory.

"What?" Aaron asked, a tinge of bemusement evident in his own voice.

Snorting, Rossi gazed fondly at the amusedly confused Aaron.

"So, you're saying you _didn't_ hate me back when you rang my publisher, pretending to be me, informing her that I couldn't possibly attend any of my book signings due to my seemingly never ending bout of diarrhoea and that she should publically circulate that exact information and apologise to my readers?" he asked genially, his eyes twinkling.

Aaron suddenly shook with laughter as the memory played through his own head.

"What was that even about?" he asked with some difficulty, between peals of his rare giggles.

"You were sulking because I wouldn't let you out of being grounded to go to the Lakers game" answered Rossi, rolling his eyes at the memory.

"Oh yeah" Aaron smirked. "Man, you really wore me out for that" he added, somewhat ruefully.

"You're damn right I did" the elder man laughed, before his face took on a much more serious hue, "and much like I'm going to do now, Aaron" he concluded.

The smile also slipped off Hotch's face at this pronouncement, but he acknowledged readily that he still had to pay the price for his lapse in judgement and therefore nodded his head resolutely.

"I know Dave" he answered more calmly than he felt. "Table ok?" he added, gesturing towards the large oak dining table in the centre of the room where he had many times before been taught various lessons whilst bent over it, Rossi's belt doing most of the educating.

Shaking his head in the negative, Rossi stood and crossed the room and pulled one of the straight back chairs out from the dining set and placed it in the middle of the room, before sitting down on it and string up at his younger charge expectantly.

Knowing what was coming, Hotch shook his head frantically. If there was one thing the agent really _did_ hate, it was being put over Dave's knee. Whilst the belt certainly hurt more, there was a greater sense of his _adulthood_ retained in it.

"Aaron, I have told you many times before but I will tell you again. You do _not_ get to choose how I punish you. I decide that. Now, you either get your backside over here and get over my knee or I come and get me and you lose the pants, straight away, it's up to you kiddo."

Sighing in defeat, Hotch shuffled slowly over to his impending doom with the shameless attempts at putting his deep brown puppy eyes to good use, which the older man expertly ignored.

Seconds later, the unit chief found himself in the all too familiar position of being upended over Rossi's knee, with a firm arm wrapped around his waist. He knew there would be no lecture, Dave tended to let his hand do the talking so he therefore wasn't that surprised when the first swat landed on his upturned backside without further discussion, but that still didn't prevent the hiss escaping his lips. He'd forgotten how leathery his mentor's hands were.

Rossi concentrated on delivering the well earned spanking his protégée had brought on himself. Like he had with Reid a mere day or so earlier, he concentrated on dishing out the spanking in methodical bursts, covering every inch of the kid's backside. Predictably, after the passage of several minutes where the only sounds to be heard were the crisp and brisk swats that landed in never ending sequence and the answering yelps and whimpering, Hotch began to squirm vigorously.

Merely tightening his hold on his wriggling miscreant, Rossi tipped him forwards and lit a fire with expertise born of experience, on the sensitive sit spots of the younger man. It was at this point that the loud yelping and hissing gave way to silent crying, and Dave took this as his cue to move the punishment along. Quickly and deftly reaching under the torso of his crying ward, he unbuckled his slacks and within seconds he had the agent's slacks and boxers pooled at his knees.

Casting a trained eye of the scarlet backside over his lap, Rossi concluded that the spanking he had dished out so far, had been harsh but deserved. Keeping this thought in mind he began peppering the bare posterior with methodical swats, paying careful attention to the silently sobbing Hotch's tender joint where upper thighs met backside.

As he began laying down the last volley of swats required to bring the spanking to a close, he observed that Hotch had begun crying far earlier than he usually would. Correctly surmising that this was more to do with the cathartic removal of the guilt he felt, than the actual spanking itself, he tipped his charge forward for the last time and made quick work of leaving a lasting impression on the exposed sit spots before immediately bringing his hand to rest upon the small of the contrite agents back.

Like he had with Spencer, he allowed Hotch to cry himself out of his lap all the while murmuring soothing Italian phrases that professed sincere forgiveness and reassurance. When there was simply no more tears to fall, Hotch made to stand up and Rossi busied himself with painstaking concentration in putting the chair back in its original position.

Pulling his slacks back over a protesting backside, Hotch bit down on his lip but could not prevent the yelp that escaped him when the fabric made contact with his smarting backside. Reid often lamented that Hotch had learned such disciplinary methods and chose to pass them down, but as he winced whilst buttoning his slacks, the thought the kid ought to be just grateful that his hands were nowhere near as hard or resilient as Rossi's.

Turning to face his slightly chagrined looking ward, Rossi smiled fondly. The usually pristine hair was a mess, the usually perfect tie was loose and hanging wildly and the frantic rubbing of watery eyes all came together to make Hotch seem much less Hotch-like than usual.

Not saying a word, and merely opening his arms to his slightly pouty protégée, Rossi chuckled quietly when the younger man lost no time in launching himself into them. Holding him tightly to him, he sighed a breath of relief that no matter what their job threw at them, some things always just _would_ be the same.

As Hotch eventually pulled away, his stomach suddenly growled.

Arching an eyebrow sternly, Rossi made direct eye contact with the young agent.

"No dinner huh? How many times have we been through _that_ one Aaron?" he asked in a firm but friendly voice.

"In my defence, I've had a lot going on" Hotch replied in what he hoped was a forceful tone, but even he heard the strains of whining it contained.

Rolling his eyes, Rossi turned and rooted through a cabinet. Thrusting a takeout menu at Hotch he instructed him to order something for the both of them before heading upstairs to go and get washed up.

Some thirty minutes later, both men were seated at the dining room table eating pizza and drinking beer, Hotch's request that they eat on the sofa had been shot down with a stern stare. Besides the occasional squirming evidenced by the young unit chief, which Rossi tactfully ignored, the recent spanking was completely forgotten about as the two men chatted and laughed.

As they sat at the table, having long since finished their meal and arguing about the starting line up for next's week's game, Hotch's phone rang.

Dave watched in concern as the complexion of the man beside him rapidly paled as he listened with rapt attention to the voice at the other end of the line. When the younger man eventually hung up the phone and dropped his head into his arms in despair, Rossi went from concerned to frightened.

"What Aaron? What is it? Talk to me!"

Looking up from his dejected pose, it took the unit chief a while, but he managed to croak out a deflated answer.

"That was the local PD. Reid's in jail."

This was simply all he could manage before dropping his head back into his arms and letting out a strangled groan that to the older man's well trained ear was a mixture of worry, exasperation and anger.

 _Mostly anger._

 _A very pronounced anger._

….

TBC


	6. Jailhouse Blues

As he approached the particularly grim looking detective at the local precinct, Hotch's feelings of fear that bubbled like a simmering pot, increased. He still didn't know what the kid had done, as the local officer who had rung him about an hour beforehand had been so enraged that he merely demanded to know of Hotch's relationship to Reid and snarled that he had better be collected as soon as possible.

Flashing his credentials at the detective who pulled a face in response, he announced himself quietly and demanded to know in his most imposing tones where Reid was and what he had done.

The detective, who quickly seemed to reconsider his attitude when the heavy presence of the FBI agent washed over him, began to explain the reasons for the kid's detainment. He surprised even himself by the feeling of the burgeoning of sympathy for the detainee in question, as he watched the strong jaw of the agent in front of him tighten with every word he spoke.

"So yeah" he concluded awkwardly, with a slight shrug of his shoulders, "that's what happened."

Hotch felt the anger burn in his eyes as he processed the information that had just been relayed to him.

"The only reason we called you is because otherwise we'd have to book him, which isn't a big deal considering the circumstances, but with him being a fed and all…" the slightly younger man added, trying to soothe the waters somewhat for the kid whilst being simultaneously bewildered at himself.

There was just _something_ about the quiet anger that radiated from this recently arrived and distinctly imposing fed that made him wince for the unusual doctor that was housed down the hall.

"Thank you detective" the dazed Aaron could hear himself saying, without actually feeing himself saying it.

Nodding, the local officer passed Hotch some forms to fill out whilst he set off to retrieve the cause of all the upset. Unlocking the door of the second cell he came to, he entered it to find a very ashen looking young man, perched on the admittedly miserable cell provided bed.

"Your boss is here kid, it's time to go" he informed a groaning Reid.

"Is he mad?" he asked the detective in a very small voice, flushing somewhat as he remembered how he had spoken to him previously and as he considered the stupidity level of the question he had just asked.

Chucking despite himself, the elder of the two men nodded his head.

"Let's just say I wouldn't like to be in your shoes right now and I won't be complaining about _my_ boss for a while. It turns out that I don't have it all that bad after all" he replied honestly, eyes twinkling.

Nodding and turning an even paler shade of pale, Reid scrambled to his feet and winced as his backside made undue contact with the steel frame of the bed he had just vacated. He felt his stomach turn as he realised that this was the first time ever that he had gotten into a fresh bout of trouble mere _hours_ after he'd been punished for the one preceding it.

It didn't help perhaps that this was both a related and arguably _worse_ bout of trouble than had been dealt with so recently.

Shuffling along the corridor after the briskly walking local officer, Reid briefly considered smashing all the portraits and memorabilia that adorned the walls. That would be vandalism. Vandalism was a crime. The officer would have no choice but to re-arrest him.

He would be safer in jail than he would be with Hotch.

Even if it _was_ in close proximity to the highly alarming Calvin, who was the only other detainee at the time. At six ft tall with unnaturally large muscles, he'd taken an unusually affectionate liking to the BAU's resident genius.

Casting this thought aside, he accepted that there was simply no way out of his current situation and dragged his feet along, feeling for all the world like he was walking to an execution chamber.

 _I might as well be_ he thought to himself in horror as he came around the corner after the detective and caught his first glimpse of Hotch. Gulping, he cast a profiler's eye over the stance and demeanour of the unit chief who was hunched over the reception desk filling out some kind of form.

What he read from his boss's body language and facial expressions made him twitch involuntarily.

 _At least I have my will drawn up already_ he thought to himself in misery, as he stayed firmly put behind the detective in a pretty poor attempt at a strategic defensive position. The detective seeing this rolled his eyes slightly, and grasped the reluctant troublemaker by the upper arm and marched him swiftly forward.

Depositing a squirming Reid in front of a now straightened up and seething Hotch, the officer felt one last fleeting moment of sympathy for the young man before turning to address the alarmingly red faced federal agent.

"So, we're releasing him to you this time. However, given the potential for a repeat of today's incident, we would be grateful if you could have a talk with your agent so as to ensure it never happens again. If there is a next time, I won't be able to keep it out of official channels" he said quietly.

Nodding immediately, Hotch flashed the now quite tired looking man a sincere look of gratitude.

"Thank you again detective. I can _categorically_ assure you that this will never happen again and I'm very sorry for the trouble you've been put to. You can be assured that this will be more than sufficiently dealt with" he replied in a tone that sounded level enough to the local officer, but to Reid's nuanced ear was dangerously loaded and wavered with fury.

Reaching out and taking a firm hold of Spencer's upper arm, Hotch gave one last brief nod to the slightly amused detective, before turning on his heel and marching the silent doctor, none too gently, out of the precinct without even glancing in his direction. Reid for his part did not put up any kind of a fuss and allowed himself to be forcibly put into the passenger seat of Hotch's SUV.

As the angry agent slid in beside him and started the car still without looking at him, Spencer gulped once more. They drove in silence for a few moments, until the mounting tension inspired the dishevelled looking Reid to break the silence. Twisting slightly in his seat, he angled himself so that he was looking at his still clearly incensed boss.

"Hotch" he began nervously, before he was sternly interrupted.

"It's _Sir_ " replied the unit chief tersely, still not looking in the kid's direction.

Nodding his head at the rebuke based correction and kicking himself for forgetting that Hotch certainly didn't allow any of his team to address him by that nickname when they were in trouble, the slightly trembling agent tried again.

"Sir -"

"Quiet Reid, I don't want to hear a single word from you. You will only speak when spoken to."

Nodding his head sadly but immediately, Reid obediently fell silent.

It was very rare that the elder of the two was so angry with him that he snapped at him like that or refused to allow him to speak. Intellectually, Reid knew this was because the team leader was afraid he would say something in his anger that he would later regret. Emotionally however, it made him curl up in sadness.

The car ride continued in a recurring pattern of Spencer sneaking furtive appraising glances at the resolutely silent Aaron, who pretended not to notice them as he strove to calm himself down.

As the car trundled into the driveway of his own home, Hotch glanced at the paled Spencer and sighed slightly, glad for the first time that Hayley and Jack were visiting relatives out of state for the next two weeks and wouldn't be in the house.

"Alright Reid, get out and get your backside into that house and find a corner" he instructed in the sternest voice he had had cause to use for a very long time, passing his house keys to the current cause of his excruciating migraine.

Watching as the kid scampered out of the car obediently and entered the house, he placed his forehead on the steering wheel in exhaustion, the sting of his own backside compounding the pain that throbbed in his temples.

Letting out a weary breath, he too exited the car and made his way into his home where Reid was obediently perched in the far right corner of his living room. Nodding in satisfaction, the elder agent spoke into the room, aware that his tones were abrupt and slightly harsh, but being simply unable to help it.

"You are to keep your nose in that corner until I explicitly tell you otherwise. I need time to calm down before I can even hope to think about dealing with you. You are not to move, make a sound or do anything other than think about your disgraceful, self destructive and flagrantly disobedient behaviour. Is that clear?"

The sad nod of the tousled head assured him that it was indeed clear, and the angry Hotch spun on his heel and marched up the stairs to his and Hayley's room, before collapsing on his bed and dropping his head in his arms.

He sat like that for a considerable period before his ringing phone jerked him out of his reverie.

 _Rossi._

"Damn" muttered Hotch, "I was supposed to call…"

Answering the call, he winced when the predictable "Aaron Hotchner!" rang through it, in a high pitched Italian accent.

"Dave, things have just been crazy and I forgot to call, I'm sorry" he muttered quickly, feeling the pounding in his head increase.

"What did he _do_?" the elder of the two demanded.

Taking in a breath so deep he felt the room swoon in and out focus slightly, Hotch ground his teeth and forced himself to repeat the words he had had such difficulty digesting himself.

"Well, remember I punished him just _a week ago_ for putting his _life_ in danger by placing himself between a kid he identified with and a haze of gunfire?" he asked grimly.

There was a slight pause.

"Yes…." answered Rossi eventually, fighting to retain composure of himself as a horrible feeling began making its way through his stomach.

 _Surely he couldn't….surely he wouldn't…..no, not so soon…..please don't say it Aaron_ he thought to himself in an uncharacteristic bout of panic.

Closing his eyes in despair, Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose in an exasperation he hadn't known it was possible to feel.

"The exact same thing Dave, god damnit…. he did the _exact_ same thing."

The team leader then set about recounting the events as they had been relayed to him by the detective who had every right to press charges against his wayward charge. How Reid had been passing a store after attending his Friday night chess competition. How he had seen three local officers accosting a youth on suspicion of aggravated burglary. A youth that Reid had encountered before through his volunteer work. A youth that had a troubled background, an introverted but highly gifted kid.

Basically, a younger Reid.

Except, Reid had never systematically engineered a suicide by cop situation.

The young man had therefore been armed. The officers had followed protocol and attempted to talk the kid down. The boy had resisted and had raised his weapon to shoot. The officers had no choice but to prepare to return fire, this they were in the process of when all of a sudden an unarmed civilian had careered into their path, covering the troubled kid with his body as the police officers attempted to reason with _him_ as _well_ as the kid.

It didn't work. Reid declared himself as a federal agent, and blatantly ignored the heated instructions of local law enforcement before turning around to talk the kid down himself.

He never got the chance, the young man had merely smiled somewhat manically and pressed the gun to Reid's forehead and was a split second away from pulling the trigger before an incredibly well placed shot from the detective that had arrested Reid, who had just arrived on sight.

The boy was wounded but not fatally, and was recuperating well in hospital and with that last statement; Hotch concluded his long explanation with a ragged breath.

There was a complete silence on the other end of the line, as for once in his life, words simply failed David Rossi.

Aaron waited patiently, anticipating this response.

Eventually, a strangled string of Italian profanities streamed down the phone, causing Hotch to be quite grateful that he wasn't that proficient with languages.

"Aaron, do you want me to take this?" the question eventually came, as the weary unit chief knew it would.

Feeling a rush of affection for the older man, Hotch wished he could answer in the affirmative but knew he wouldn't.

"No Dave, it's ok… I got it" he replied softly.

Expecting this, Rossi shook his head to no one in particular and sighed loudly.

"You're not to do anything until you're completely calm Aaron, do you understand?" he eventually asked, quite sternly.

Rolling his eyes heavily, Hotch gave the required answer.

"Good, otherwise you know that you will be answering to me, you need to be completely together emotionally before you deal with this," came the firm reply, causing the blue eyes of the listener to roll yet again.

"Don't think that I don't know you're rolling your eyes at me Aaron, quit it" Rossi scolded.

Hotch flushed somewhat, but felt a slight grin play on his face. Rossi always _would_ be one step ahead of him.

The two men conversed about the best way to handle the situation, and after some time had elapsed, Hotch felt thoroughly clamed and reassured by the soft intonations of his own mentor. Hanging up the phone he promised to call back after the situation had…been taken care of.

Leaning back on his pillows, the weary unit chief glanced at the clock beside his bed. It was nearly half ten. He briefly entertained the notion of putting off what needed to be done until tomorrow, but quickly dismissed it.

It would be cruel to Spencer to make him wait like that, and as angry as Hotch was with him, he would never want to be anything other than fair with his youngest.

Groaning, he swung his legs off the bed and made his tired way downstairs. He was relieved when he as he entered his living room, Reid was exactly where he was supposed to be. Sitting down on his sofa, he observed the slumped features of his seemingly incorrigible agent and sighed sadly.

 _Why can't he understand how important he is….._

 _Why can't he understand how important he is to me…_

These thoughts rattled around his head as he cleared his throat in preparation for the tongue lashing he knew he was going to have to give.

"Alright Spencer, front and centre" he instructed firmly.

As the kid shuffled out with the most hangdog eyes Hotch had ever seen him pull, he felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. It simply wasn't _fair_ that the genius could pull that look.

 _This is going to be a long night_ he thought grimly.

Reid obediently stood in front of his angry boss, as the elder man observed him from his couch based decision.

Fixing the prodigy with the sternest glare he possessed, Hotch waited until the squirming was at its peak before speaking in a dangerously low voice.

"By the time I am finished with you tonight Spencer, we are _never_ going to have the need to repeat this conversation _ever_ again, is that clear?"

Reid paled and gulped, but nodded obediently.

 _This is going to be a long night_ he thought miserably.

…..

TBC


	7. Third Time's the Charm

Shooting one last hard look at the shuffling doctor before him, Hotch felt his face soften somewhat. Pointing to the chair that faced opposite the sofa he was currently sitting, he watched silently as Reid obeyed the unspoken command and dropped down into it immediately.

Standing up, he spoke in a much softer tone that he would ever believed himself of a mere hour ago.

"Stay here, I'll be back in a minute, ok?"

Spencer nodded his head and tried to keep his lip from trembling as Hotch set off towards his kitchen.

He wondered frantically if it was the hairbrush that the elder agent was going to fetch, or had he finally managed to push him into using something worse.

He was therefore surprised and more than a little confused, when Hotch poked his head around the door a minute or so later and arched a quizzical eyebrow at him.

"You take three sugars in your coffee when it's that Kenyan blend, right?"

Gaping somewhat, the young man had managed to force his head up and down in agreement and continued to gawp when Hotch withdrew his head and left for the second time.

 _He must be already writing my eulogy_ he thought to himself, _that's the only explanation._

Twisting and fidgeting in his chair he waited whilst intermittently switching between the wish that Hotch would just return so they could it over and done with, and the burning desire that he'd somehow gotten lost in his own house and would be so grateful when Reid eventually found them that he'd just forget about the whole situation at hand.

He was spared from heading back into another bout of wishing the elder of the two would just return, when he did indeed return. Reid felt the familiar gravitational pull on his jaw when he saw the laden down tray in the team leader's hands, as opposed to some implement of horror.

His favourite artisan coffee and his guilty pleasure mini cream cake were perched precariously alongside a much duller blend of coffee, that Reid wouldn't dare insult his taste buds by offering them. Setting the tray down on the coffee table between their two seats, Hotch plopped and helped himself to his drink. When he looked up and the kid was merely staring silently, he couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"You need to lift them up, Reid" he told the astonished doctor, barely concealing the laughter in his tone.

Confused and widened brown eyes turned to him.

"Aren't you mad at me?" Spencer asked quietly, confusion leaking from his words.

"Very" the elder man replied simply.

"Then…" the kid let his voice trail off as he ran his eyes over the food offering, perhaps there was arsenic concealed in the jam of the pastry that sat innocently in front of him. Perhaps the team leader had finally decided to stop threatening and _actually_ kill him.

Sighing slightly, Hotch leant back on his sofa and considered his response.

"I'm furious with you. Be under no illusions. That being said, I absolutely refuse to punish you without first knowing all the facts. The last time you pulled this kind of stunt, two weeks or so ago, I put it down to a combination of your youth, your life experiences and your heightened ability to empathise. That, as well as your complete disregard for your own life and value."

"I punished you for it and I honestly thought that would be the end of the matter. Obviously it isn't, and I _need_ to know what's going on with you Spencer. There is just no point in me spanking you if you don't understand why, or if you don't learn from it and I simply won't do it. So, we're just going to talk for a while and see if we can figure this out, ok?"

Reid silently digested this information and came to the conclusion that he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it.

On the one hand, sitting down to talk meant that he was seated on and was therefore protecting his endangered backside. On the other, talking about what drove him to act the way he did was not something that he wanted to do. However, he recognised that although Hotch phrased the impending discussion as a choice, it was far from it. He felt his guilt intensify when he thought of how the elder of the two refused to just discipline him for the sake of it.

Giving a tentative nod of his head in agreement, he squirmed somewhat in his chair. He might know nearly everything there was to know in the world, but when it came to explaining his emotions, he knew that he knew very little.

His stomach suddenly rumbled and he instinctively reached for the delicious little cake that he now deduced to be poison free. He didn't see the fond expression that crossed Hotch's face when he made little work of it and washed it down with a healthy dose of coffee.

"Feel better?" he asked wryly.

"Yeah, thanks" came the shy reply.

Nodding, Hotch surveyed the twenty-something doctor for a moment before leaning forward and resting his head in his hands.

"Ok Spencer, time to start talking to me."

The instruction was simple, much like "open the window, or close the door."

However, judging by the look that crossed Reid's face, he'd just been asked to explain the very meaning of life and to do so in less than three minutes.

"I uhh…well…I broke the rules?" he eventually offered, somewhat lamely.

Closing his eyes slightly and reminding himself that he was a federal agent and that murder was both illegal and morally reprehensible, Hotch nodded slowly.

"Yes Reid, I know that. What I _don't_ know is _why"_ he replied, taking very great care not to raise his voice or let it be coloured with irritation. He needed answers from this kid.

"I umm…well….I guess I don't know what you want me to say" Spencer admitted slowly, feeling a flush come over his cheeks. Not knowing the answer to a direct question was not something he was at all familiar with.

Sighing slightly, but more in weariness than irritation, Hotch surveyed the uncomfortable young man for a moment and decided to throw him a lifeline.

"Why do you continue to needlessly risk your life like this Spencer?"

Staring in confusion but recovering well, Reid pondered his response briefly.

"I don't _needlessly_ risk my life. I do my damn _job"_ he answered, with a hint of defiance in his voice that strained Hotch's resolve to maintain his patient tones.

"Your _job_ is to do as _I_ tell you" the now tested man shot right back.

"Yes _sir_ " Reid muttered, disrespect oozing from every syllable and with a haughty toss of his head.

He suddenly felt a wave of anger rush through him. He was _tired_ of always having to answer to Hotch. Or Rossi. He was a grown man and they had no right to treat him like this. He felt himself glare at the startled looking Hotch and was grimly satisfied by the fact.

It served him right to know that he wasn't some idiotic kid he could order around as it suited him.

Hotch made no verbal reply.

Standing up, he calmly strode around the coffee table and yanked the insolent Spencer from his seat by his upper arm. Putting a foot up on the seat of the armchair, he expertly put the now squawking doctor over his upraised knee. He quickly issued a swift and stinging series of swats over every inch of the kid's backside, before just as calmly, setting him back down in his chair again.

Striding back to, and dropping down into his own chair he took up his glaring stance once more.

"Would you like to continue with that attitude Reid or would you like to drop it?" he asked in a deathly calm tone.

Feeling the sting make its way steadily across his rear and the colour mount in his face, the young doctor quickly shook his head. Why did he always have to open his mouth before using his brain, isn't that the opposite of a genius?

"No sir, sorry" he eventually murmured softly.

Nodding his approval, the unit chief arched an eyebrow at the flushed looking Spencer.

"Good. Now, for the third time, why are you continuing to engage in this pattern of self destructive and harmful behaviour?"

When Reid didn't answer, but instead dropped his gaze to his shoes and squirmed somewhat, Hotch lost his last vestiges of patience.

"Perhaps I'm not being strict enough with you? Perhaps I'm not spanking you thoroughly enough, is that it?"

Predictably, this got a reaction.

"What? No!" the horrified prodigy spluttered, "You spank me just thoroughly enough, thank you!"

Biting back an instinctive smile to this outburst, Hoch focussed on keeping his glare up to his trademark levels of wrath.

"Then _talk_ to me Reid, I need to know what's going on with you."

Reid looked at him for a moment with an odd expression on his face before, turning his head away slightly.

"What's the point in all this, you're just going to punish me anyway" he muttered softly.

Not with insolence, but with sadness.

Hotch struggled to keep the misery of the voice away from his heartstrings and wondered wildly how it could be harder to deal with Spencer than it was to deal with Jack.

"Yes I am" he agreed quietly "but, a punishment is supposed to _teach_ just as much as it chastens Reid, and I need to know that you're learning something. To do that, I need to understand what it is that is causing you to act so uncharacteristically in the _first_ place."

When the young man still didn't open his mouth or make any attempt to answer him, Hotch closed his eyes as the staggering worry he felt for his youngest that he had been fending off crashed over him.

"Please" he said softly, effectively breaking his own rules.

He didn't say please to anyone under his command. Ever.

Reid snapped his head up accordingly.

"You…. never say please" he said wonderingly.

Sighing, Hotch nodded his head in agreement.

"I know" he said simply, arching an eyebrow at the amazed Spencer.

It had the right effect. Finally.

Licking his lips, the young man took in a huge breathe and his large brown eyes found the elder mans.

"It's because….of my mother" he all but whispered, clearly struggling to maintain eye contact.

"Your mother?" replied Hotch immediately, beginning to feel the slow seeping of realisation drip into his brain as he spoke.

Taking another gulp of air, Spencer nodded.

"Recently, she's been in one of… her bad phases. Her letters have been…well, they're like what _she_ was like when I was about thirteen. That was a particularly bad patch. It's the patch where I had to take care of her the most. When she needed me the most, and she couldn't bear to be within five foot of anyone else. It put me back in that frame of mind, being…responsible for everything. That's why I dove in to try and save that kid tonight, because in some way I….I felt responsible for him."

Reid stopped for a minute to catch a breath and then continued, in a trembling voice.

"I knew him, I had worked with him. I felt like it was my fault he was in the situation he was in, because I let him down. Just like I…like I let my mom down… when I was thirteen."

With that, Spencer became incapable of any more speech and dropped his head down to his chest and stared at the floor with an intensity the nondescript carpet had any right to receive.

He didn't have the opportunity to engage the beige material in much of a staring contest.

Hotch had crossed the distance between them in two strides and had lifted the boy out of his chair.

Reid flinched in response, clearly anticipating another impromptu round of swats.

Instead he was pulled into a mammoth bear hug. The unit chief in an uncharacteristic display of emotion had to blink away the tears in his own eyes as he held the now slightly sniffling Reid tightly to him, all the while murmuring softly into his ear. The tousled head nodded up and down sporadically, indicating that the words the elder man was carefully choosing were hitting home. When they eventually broke apart, the young man looked visibly calmer than he had in a long time and Hotch felt the relief of this fact cause his head to swoon slightly.

Dropping back into his chair, Reid fixed his boss with a trademark pout than again caused the elder of the two to breath slightly easier.

"You're still gonna tan my backside, aren't you?"

Snorting somewhat despite himself, Hotch nodded.

"Yup, but can you tell me why?"

Knowing that resistance was futile, Reid nodded.

"I didn't come to you. I didn't tell you I was struggling, and I put myself in danger as a result" he answered, in increasingly glum tones.

The unit chief nodded and felt his anger with the young genius come bubbling to the surface once again.

"I thought we'd addressed that issue before Spencer" he said quietly, not bothering to hide the disappointment in his tone.

The sandy brown head bobbed up and down once more, in guilty agreement.

"I know…I just didn't want you think I was weak compared to the rest of the team" the kid admitted, shamefaced. He knew that this answer would make his boss even angrier, but he couldn't bring himself to continue being withholding with him.

Predictably, Hotch let out something similar to a feral snarl.

" _How_ many times have we _addressed_ that one, Reid?"

Flushing, the young doctor squirmed.

"Lots of times sir" he admitted, to the floor more so than Hotch, but still.

Sighing, the team leader ran his hands through his dark hair and took stock of his own emotions. Satisfied that he could be completely fair and controlled with his errant youngest, he steeled himself and gritted his teeth.

"Ok Spencer, how about we get this over and done with?" he said quietly, patting his knee as he did so in a clear indication that it wasn't really a question.

Reid nodded and grimaced in response at the same time, clearly dealing with conflicting emotions.

"Please…can't I just bend over the table" he pleaded, putting his doleful puppy dog eyes into their highest gear. He positively _hated_ being put over Hotch's knee to be spanked, finding much more dignity in bending over some surface or other to receive his spanking.

When the glare the elder agent shot him made its way through his appendix, he sighed and admitted defeat. Standing up slowly and shuffling over to his awaiting doom, he noted to himself mentally that his boss hadn't brought a hairbrush in with him. He felt a rush of surprise tinged relief.

Hotch was either the best profiler to ever grace the face of planet earth, or he moonlighted as a medium. Whichever the case, he noted the micro expression on the kids face and grimly reached behind the sofa cushion that supported his back where he sat, and pulled out a fearsome looking wooden spoon that clearly been secreted there during Reid's corner time sentence.

Arching an eyebrow once more at the horrified young man, he shook his head in exasperation.

"You honestly thought you were going to get away with just my hand? Not a chance, kid."

Reid opened his mouth to whine, but he was cut off.

"Over my knee, right now."

"Sir..." came the wheedling reply, accompanied by the poodle eyes.

Hotch glared, this kid could make hard work out of finger painting.

Holding up three fingers, he began the silent countdown and was rewarded when the profiling prodigy scowled but immediately plopped himself down over the awaiting knee, again mentally hissing about how easily he fitted over the team leaders lap.

Rolling his eyes at the theatrics, the unit chief immediately wrapped his free arm tightly around Reid's waist for the third time in as many weeks and held him tightly. Placing the spoon down on the cushion beside him, he lost no time in beginning the warming of the slacks clad backside with his hand.

Spencer hissed at the first swat, again marvelling at how much Hotch's bare hand _stung._ Even over pants. Pants that he knew he would soon be divested off, the thoughts of which made him sniffle in self pity as the hand came down again and again in rhythmic sequences. The sorrowful young man slumped his head down on the couch cushion, knowing that the soft fabric would soon be damp with his tears.

The spanking continued in earnest. Hotch didn't lecture as he spanked, he never did. He prided himself on his ability to communicate non verbally. Therefore the only sounds that could be heard in the comfortable living room were the sharp vibrations of hand against backside, and the growing "ouch's" and "oww's" that escaped a morose Spencer. All interspersed with the odd but loud bout of sniffling.

Hotch intended for this to be the very last time he needed to spank the snuffling doctor for winding up in a dangerous position because of his unjustified insecurities. He spanked him harder than he usually would in the warm up stages, and he knew the stoic front the kid was putting up wouldn't last much longer. When he raised his outer knee and therefore placed the tender sit spots that had endured so much attention recently into the firing line, Reid let out his first plea.

"No…please, please don't….not there, anywhere but there…"

Wishing he could turn his hearing off at whim to block out the strangled yelp of his youngest, Hotch merely grimaced and brought his hand down on the sensitive area. He took his time in applying particular attention to the tender curves and before long he could hear the very soft crying that broken out in response.

Removing the already well spanked sit spots from his target area, the unit chief returned his attention to the upper and middle areas of the young man's backside. All too soon the recalcitrant doctor began squirming across his lap in an attempt to avoid the unyielding swats. Closing his eyes in reluctance, he brought his firm hand down over and over again on the same two spots, knowing firsthand that this particular form of swat distribution caused the most discomfort.

The kid could blame Rossi for that one, not him.

When he was satisfied that the young man had been as well chastened as possible through the protection his slacks afforded him, Hotch gently pulled the kid up off his knee and somehow found the will not to wince visibly when he saw the watery quality of his eyes and the flushed appearance of his face.

Gesturing to the maroon trousers the boy was wearing, he forced himself to not give the very hard done by looking doctor a sympathetic glance.

"Pants down, now" he instructed firmly.

Spencer's hands went obediently the clasp of his slacks, but they loitered there whilst he pulled out all the tricks in the book to wrangle some leeway from his stern looking boss.

It was unsuccessful.

"Either you take them down, or I take them down Spencer" Hotch informed the pouting prodigy firmly.

Much more firmly than he actually felt.

Sighing with the dramatics of performing arts major, Reid reluctantly did as he was told.

Hotch guided the now boxer clad boy back over his knee and ensure he was securely placed, before deftly tugging the offending boxers down to the kid's knees.

When Reid began a barrage of whining, he was once again cut off.

"Spencer, just because I'm going to use the wooden spoon, doesn't mean I _won't_ use the belt, clear?"

He bit his lip to keep from snorting when the answering "clear!" came screeching back to his loaded question.

The team leader cast a trained eye over the now bared backside across his lap. It was already an impressive shade of scarlet and he knew that he was being much harder on the young man than usual, but he had simply been left with no other choice.

Raising his hand high once more, he brought it down with a resounding force and set about adding a deeper shade of crimson to the soft and upturned backside. The squirming increasing exponentially as he had anticipated and he calmly wrapped and even tighter arm around the slim waist in response.

Peppering the sensitised rear with deliberate and firm swats, he groaned inwardly in paternal despair as the howling began to emanate from the young man and reverberate around the room. Bringing the last volley of swats that would be delivered courtesy of his hand down, he let his hand rest on the flaming hot backside for a moment as he reached for the dreaded spoon.

He had only used this spoon on the sobbing Spencer once before, and it had been to great effect.

He fervently hoped it would produce the same results this time round.

Raising it reluctantly, he brought it down with the same resolve his hand had shown, the answering yelp tearing his heart.

He soon settled into his usual tempo, bringing the spoon down over and over again, without allowing any time for respite in between licks. Soon, the loud and heart wrenching sobbing transformed into a quiet and broken sobbing, which caused Hotch more pain that he would ever care to admit. He felt Spencer's torso go limp across his knee as he brought the spoon down to become acquainted with the already reddened sit spots.

There was no more struggling from the boy and the unit chief instinctively knew that the young man had had enough, and landing one or two perfunctory swats down upon the well punished bottom, he cast the spoon aside, giving it a filthy look as he did so.

Immediately bringing his hand up to the small of the contrite Spencer's back, he lost no time in rubbing comforting circles on it, whilst the other one carded through the tangled mop the young profiler called hair. He stayed stock still, allowing the kid to completely cry himself out over his lap. He kept up a nonstop stream of assurances of forgiveness, murmuring them to now sniffling Reid in a much softer voice than would ever be associated with the stern team leader.

Eventually, he knew that the young man was going to make to stand up and he removed his hands from his back and hair. Very gently, he pulled up the young reprobates boxers to their original position, and his slacks to theirs. He carefully guided the headstrong boy off his lap and turned away whilst Reid quickly buttoned up his trousers.

As he turned back he felt the all too familiar stabs of guilt as he took in the red rimmed eyes, the dishevelled hair and the trembling lips of his youngest. He reminded himself sternly that what had been done was necessary and no more than would what would have been done to him had he pulled the same stunt.

He smiled wryly to himself.

 _When_ he had pulled the same stunt. Again, Reid had Rossi to blame for a _lot._

He watched quietly as Reid rubbed his damp eyes with his hands and resisted pulling the boy into a tight hug.

He always gave Spencer the space to dictate what level of comfort he wanted or needed after he'd been punished.

He was more than a little relieved however when the kid shuffled somewhat and looked at him with a poorly concealed look of expectation.

Smiling his warm smile, Hotch opened his arms widely and sighed happily when the boy wonder threw himself into them and buried his head into his chest.

He held him tightly to him for a long time and only let him go when he felt him completely relax against him.

"How're we doing then buddy?" he asked gently, eying the young man fondly.

"I'm ok sir" came the immediate reply, and Aaron knew it was the truth. Sure, the spanking would continue to hurt for a while, but emotionally…the kid was going to be ok. For a while, at least.

"You have an eidetic memory Spencer, you should know it's Hotch now" the elder man laughed, and ruffled the already windswept and interesting mop of hair affectionately.

Reid grinned mischievously all of a sudden, causing the team leader to eye him suspiciously.

Stepping strategically away from his boss, Spencer suddenly pulled a _very_ stern face and cleared his throat dramatically.

"It's _sir"_ he growled theatrically, in a pitch perfect imitation of the cross tones the previously angry unit chief had used to correct him in the car on the way home from the police station.

Hotch stared for a moment in incredulity, and then gave in.

Shaking with laughter, he leant forwards and gave the smirking Spencer a soft rapt on the wrist.

"Don't be cheeky" he scolded, in an attempt at feigned annoyance, that didn't fool either of them.

Reid merely grinned his goofy grin and Hotch rolled his eyes before forcing his face into what he hoped would be the last firm expression of the night.

"Ok Spencer, what's my policy on a third strike offence?" he asked quietly.

Predictably the kid's face fell and his bottom lip began to jut out sulkily.

"Hotch c'mon -" he began to whine, before he was swiftly interjected.

"Policy, what is my policy?" the elder agent repeated firmly, willing the boy to just cooperate with him, for _once._

Sighing loudly and with the petulance of a two year old, Reid obediently opened his mouth.

"If I get spanked three or more times in one month, I get… grounded as well" he answered, with a pronounced grimace.

Nodding his head in approval, Hotch debated his decision once more in his head before responding to the aggrieved looking genius.

"Correct. Now, I've decided that since we're on light duty at work and only need to go into the building if a new case comes in and as Hayley and Jack are away, you're going to serve your weeks grounding here. Where I can keep an eye on you."

As anticipated, Reid opened his mouth to voice a vehement protest.

He was interrupted, again.

"Not a negotiation, not a debate. It's what's happening. It can either happen with or without increased discomfort for your backside; it's entirely up to you."

The mere mention of any increased heat across his already scorching rear end brought any protest to an end, and the boy nodded his head obediently. Albeit slightly sulkily.

"Good, we can swing by your place tomorrow to pick up whatever you need, ok?"

Another obedient/sulkily head nod.

Chuckling slightly, Hotch threw an arm around the pouting Spencer and steered him towards the kitchen.

"Come on, hot chocolate and then bed. It's late."

Brightening considerably at the mention of the hot beverage, Reid allowed himself to be gently propelled towards the eating area, wincing as the fabric of his pants had little empathy for his tender backside.

As Hotch watched the younger man make short work of his favourite blend of chocolate drink and listened as he chatted animatedly about the flaws in the proportional representation process, he sighed fondly.

One week of watching over the kid should be a breeze.

As long as he followed all the rules that he knew to be place when he was grounded.

Which, Hotch assured himself, he would.

Hopefully.

….

TBC


	8. Double Standards

Hotch stumbled into the kitchen with bleary eyes and the beginnings of a dull headache. He loitered for a few moments, blinking rather gormlessly in the doorway of the dining area, staring bemusedly at the breakfast laid on the table.

Looking out from over the tops his three newspapers, Reid beamed as the older man eventually sat himself down at the table.

"Morning Hotch! Hope you're hungry. I made cereal."

The unit chief looked down at the large bowl of now soggy cornflakes in front of him and grinned.

Genius though the kid might be, domesticated he was not.

"Thanks Reid" he chuckled, before picking up his spoon.

Seeing the younger man was fully dressed and showered, he glanced at the clock wonderingly.

"What time did you get up?"

Burying his head simultaneously in the multiple newspapers, Reid threw an offhand "round five thirty" out from over them.

Sighing, Hotch made a mental note to watch the kid's caffeine intake for the day.

"What are we doing today?" Reid suddenly asked nonchalantly with his nose still inches away from his morning readings.

Hotch felt a weary groan fight to escape him. It was way too early for this…

The elder man leant back in his chair and looked grimly at his youngest agent.

"Reid, don't you dare start. You know you're grounded, we're not 'doing' anything today. Or any other day this week, for that matter."

The younger man peered out from behind his papers once more, a look of hurt on his face.

"I _know_ that. I meant _case_ wise, seeing as the team isn't in the office this week. Geez Hotch, way to jump down my throat."

Feeling a little tug of guilt, Aaron smiled his crooked smile apologetically.

"Sorry, sorry" he murmured as he held his hands up, rolling his eyes as Reid was torn between giving him a deathly glare and laughing.

"So what _are_ we doing today then? The Holden case could do with some more work and Morgan and Prentiss said they had a handle on the Gallagher case."

Finishing his last spoonful of cornflakes, Hotch mumbled "we'll take the Holden case then" and set off upstairs to wash up and change.

Half an hour later and a jeans and sweatshirt clad Aaron rejoined his agent in the living room, which looked more like a squad room with the vast array of files towering everywhere.

Noting the amused look Reid shot at him, he raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing, nothing" the younger man mumbled innocently, a definite grin playing on his lips.

"Reid…"

Snorting, the doctor gave in as he settled himself more comfortably on the couch.

"We always think that you look younger when you're dressed differently is all" he explained in amusement.

Glancing down at his casual attire, Hotch felt confusion lap him before levelling the smirking kid with a glare.

" _We?_ We, being the rest of my supposedly adult and professional team I suppose?"

"Uhh…"

Chuckling, Hotch plopped down on the couch beside a highly relieved looking doctor.

"Save it. I obviously just don't work any of you hard enough seeing as you have the time to dissect my wardrobe, thanks for bringing it to my attention. I'll be sure to fix that."

Reid's answering scowl was soon replaced with a furrowed brow as he threw himself into the file his boss had passed him, and the two soon lapsed into a concentrated silence. Time passed and soon ideas were bouncing back and forth as to the best way to lure the well educated and evasive unsub out. More time passed, and an argument about such best practice was beginning to brew.

Neither of the two men would have every described an argument about a case to be unusual. They had high pressured jobs, and were all highly opinionated. It came with the territory.

However, a festering argument between the most junior and the most senior member of the team concerning the junior member's reservations about the dangers of the plan posed by the senior _was._

Pinching his nose in exasperation, Hotch tried to keep a handle on himself.

"It's a risk _I'm_ willing to run. _I'm_ the one that fits most comfortably into this guy's need to destroy any figure of authority. You know as well as I do that he's done his research on _all_ of us. He knows I'm unit chief. He also knows our procedures, he's law enforecement and you know it. For it to work, I _have_ to go in alone. It's the best option."

Reid felt his eyes begin to twitch in irritation. Scratch that, he felt his eyes begin to bulge in irritation.

"You're such a hypocrite!" he finally exploded, completely unable to contain himself any longer.

"Excuse me, Reid?" Hotch responded in an icily clam tone.

In no mood for subtle threats or being reminded that the maddening man beside him was his boss, Reid ignored the warning.

"You're advocating the exact same thing you've been giving me hell for the last three weeks! The exact same thing, but oh no, it's not wrong and self destructive when it's _you._ When it's _you_ it's _the best option!"_

Hotch took in a breath. He knew that the reason the heated kid was speaking to him with an insolent and scathing tone was because he was concerned for his welfare. Understand that though he might however, he was not about to put up with it.

"Remember who you're talking to, Reid" he responded quietly, giving the angry young man one of his very sternest looks.

Grinding his teeth, the genius took a moment to compose himself.

"Maybe I'm out of line Hotch, maybe I am. But I'd rather be out of line, and face the consequences of that then…then anything happening to you because you're blinded on this case! You've been blinkered by your desire to get this guy from day one, and don't think I'm the only one who's noticed!"

Softening somewhat, but still unwilling to yield, the elder man placed a gentle hand on his youngest agent's shoulder. He was relieved when the kid didn't shake it off, but he didn't exactly relax either.

"Nothing will happen to me. I've been studying this case long before it became BAU territory, you know that. This case…it's followed me for years Reid. This is a decent option at closing it, my decision is final, it's also nothing like the behaviour you've been displaying recently. I can only hope that you can understand that."

Feeling the anger flare up in him once more, Reid shook his head angrily.

"No. I _cannot_ understand that. You're the one who's always lecturing us all about being part of a team. Always being a part of the team. There's no goddamn I in team. Yet here you are pretending like we don't even bloody _exist_! Since when were you a _do as I say, not as I do_ , kind of guy?"

"Watch your tone Reid" Hotch shot sharply.

Nodding his head sarcastically, the young man opened his mouth once more.

"Sorry. You're the one pretending like we don't even _beautifully_ exist" he corrected himself scathingly.

Sighing, Hotch got up abruptly, and without a word, he stalked off towards the kitchen.

Within moments, he had reappeared and to Spencer's horror he was wielding the wooden spoon that had lit a fire across his backside just the night previously.

Crossing the room in three strides, Hotch took the now very quiet Spencer up off the couch by his upper arm and stood him directly in front of him.

"Hold out your right hand" he instructed firmly, ignoring the look of confused anxiety on the young man's face.

"W-what?" Reid stammered, trying to tear his eyes off the thick spoon clutched in his boss's hand.

"Your right hand, hold it out. Now" came the stern reply.

"Hotch c'mon…"

"You can either hold out your hand, or you can use both your hands to steady yourself whilst I put you over my knee instead. Your call."

Groaning, Reid instantly yet reluctantly extended his right hand, palm upwards.

Nodding his approval, Hotch wasted no time in grasping the kid's wrist.

The spoon came down smartly on the soft skin of Reid's palm in rapid succession, drawing a string of strangled yelps from the young man to whom it was attached.

Bringing down the last thwack, Hotch threw the spoon down on the couch instantly but didn't relinquish his hold of his agent's wrist.

"No matter how upset you are with me, you do not speak to me like that. I don't care what the provocation is, you will not use those tones with me. Have I made myself clear?"

His eyes bright with unshed tears, the young man nodded his head immediately and felt the firm grasp on his wrist melt away, to be replaced with a quick embrace.

Holding the kid to him tightly, albeit briefly, Hotch took the opportunity to murmur in his ear.

"I appreciate that you care about me. I do, but I can't have you mouthing off to me and thinking it's ok, can you understand _that_ at least?"

Breaking away, the younger man nodded his head once more and shuffled slightly.

"Sorry Hotch" he said simply, but beseechingly.

"Why my hand though?" he added in confusion.

Chuckling, the elder man ruffled his hair affectionately.

"I thought your backside could do with a bit more respite."

Snorting his agreement, the young man murmured yet another apology.

"That's ok Reid. Anyway, this is all still pretty hypothetical. Unless we get some kind of break on this case, my decision isn't going to be in a position to be drawn upon. So how about we call it a day and grab some dinner? We've been at this for hours now."

Reid nodded his head and allowed himself to be propelled into the kitchen in the search for sustenance.

He chatted and laughed amiably with his boss and friend over the dinner table, and the argument was completely forgotten.

However, the young man had ideas of his own. And if Hotch thought he was going to be able to go solo with the Holden unsub, he was tragically mistaken.

More time elapsed and the two were soon sprawled in front of the television, bickering about who was going to head back into the kitchen to tackle the washing up.

As Hotch heaved himself up to don his domestic apron once more, he muttered darkly under his breath. Reid only caught snippets, but he grinned as he heard about the unfairness of using a trivia game to determine a winner and loser of the clear up debate with a genius.

Bidding goodnight to the older man an hour or so later, Reid made his way up his room that he had been allocated for the duration of his sentence, and sleepily heard Hotch make his way into his own room down the hall ten or so minutes after.

Silence descended over the house for the next two hours.

The silence was disrupted by the shrill ringing of Hotch's cell at two a.m.

Arousing from his slumber quickly, the team leader quickly grabbed his vibrating phone off the dresser and answered it with sleepy eyes.

Five seconds later saw his eyes grow wider than they had been all day.

Ten seconds later saw him falling out of his bed in his haste to exit it, and throwing the first items of clothing on his body that he found.

Hanging up the phone, the unit chief dashed around his room donning additional pieces of clothing as he did so.

Finally fully dressed, he made his way quietly down the darkened stairs and hallway.

He _definitely_ didn't want Reid waking up right now.

Time had never been more of the essence, and fending off an outraged doctor was definitely not in the time budget.

Flicking on the living room lights, he quickly tore through the files that had caused the earlier upset with his young agent. Tearing the necessary pages from the bundle, he threw a nearby jacket on him, grabbed his car keys and within seconds, he had quietly exited the house.

Unfortunately, he had not performed every aspect of his getaway quite as quietly.

As the young agent took the last four steps in one leap, he quickly wrenched open the front door.

He was too late, his boss's car was gone and the dark night showed up no signs of nearby headbeams.

Letting out an uncharacteristic growl in frustration and fear, Reid quickly turned to survey the paper based carnage that adorned the living room.

One glance at the torn about contents of the Holden file, in conjunction with the snippets of conversation he had heard as he woke up for a drink, and his fears were confirmed.

The break, the hypothetical break that Hotch had assured him was necessary for his plan to work…

That break wasn't a hypothetical anymore.

The by the book, sticker for rules SSA Hotchner had gone completely off script and had hared off after his obsession to bring this unsub in.

Completely on his own.

In the dead of night.

Where no one knew where he was, or what he was doing.

Sitting down on the floor, and wrapping his arms around his slender frame, the young man rocked back and forth for a moment as he wrestled with himself.

It didn't take any longer than two minutes for the young man to come to his decision.

He had been left with no choice but to use his own previously hypothetical plan.

Reaching shakily out for the house phone, he punched in a number and remained in his rocking position as it rang.

Thirty or so seconds later, the phone stopped ringing as it made a connection.

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, the young doctor pushed himself to continue.

"Rossi? It's Reid."

"You need to come. I need your help…Hotch is in danger."

…

TBC

…


	9. Unit Chief's Grief

A silence so tense filled the car that it almost seemed to operate as solid brick wall between a seething Rossi and a scowling Hotch.

Upon answering Reid's frantic call, the eldest of team had raced to Aaron's location, courtesy of Garcia's cell GPS hacking abilities.

Upon arriving, to his horror, he had found Hotch wrestling on the floor with the Holden unsub.

Completely on his own, without back up, and with his firearm flung in the far corner of the derelict room of the abandoned warehouse the fugitive had been holed up in.

Heart freezing in his chest at the sight of the kid trying to restrain the physically fit, and morally devoid criminal, Rossi had rushed in and between the two of them, the manic killer was now safely in FBI custody.

This fact, seemed to bolster the younger man's beliefs that his actions had been warranted, that they had been necessary.

Gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles went white with the pressure, Rossi grimly resolved that before the night was over, Aaron Hotchner would be completely disabused of any and all of his idiotic notions.

Hotch, for his part, was quietly fuming.

No matter how much he pointed it out to the elder man beside him, he never _could_ seem to understand that _he_ was unit chief. That _he_ was _his_ god damned _boss._

He had taken a risk yes, but it was a calculated one, he wasn't some rookie looking to prove himself.

Scowling, he leant his head against the window and continued to seethe.

When Rossi completely by passed the turn off that led to his house, and instead opted for the road that led to his own, his teeth ground so ferociously his dentist would have passed out had he born witness.

"My house is the other way" he bit out angrily.

An answering level of fury was directed straight back at him.

"I'm well aware of that Aaron, but unless you want Reid to hear the…conversation, we're about to have, you just sit there and keep your mouth firmly shut."

Hotch, with great difficulty, resisted the urge to scream and roar obscenities as the maddeningly calm Rossi, and satisfied himself instead with pointedly rolling his eyes and letting out a dramatic sigh.

Both of which did him no favours as Dave struggled to contain his own temper.

About twenty minutes passed before the car rolled into the driveway of Rossi's home, and killing the engine, the elder man took a deep breath.

"Ok. Get into that house and find a corner" he instructed firmly, knowing he needed to calm the hell down before dealing with the hard headed agent.

Letting out a growl of frustration, Aaron shook his head angrily.

"That's hardly necessary" he said, pleased by the cool and disdainful quality of his tone.

Gritting his own teeth, Rossi briefly closed his eyes and reminded himself that if he strangled the kid, he would eventually, after he calmed down, miss him.

"Either you do as I say, or I will drag you into that house, and you won't like the consequences" he replied quietly.

Silence filled the car, before another angry exhaling of breath was offered, and Hotch stormed from the car, slamming the door shut as he went.

Dave stayed in the car and watched silently as the kid swept up the garden path, with evident fury in his stride, and thrust the front door open.

Shaking his head and letting out a sigh of his own, he wearily clambered from the car.

This was going to be a long night.

Peeking into the living room, he was relieved to see Aaron obediently standing in his usual corner.

Albeit radiating with a palpable rage.

Speaking into the room, he was slightly chagrined when the kid tensed in response.

"Don't even think about taking your nose out of that corner until I get back in here, you understand?"

The angry and loaded _"yes"_ was so unlike Aaron's usual placid tones, Rossi sighed.

Exiting the room, he quickly made his way to the kitchen and wearily threw himself down at the table and waited for tea he had put on to brew.

One teapot and half an hour later, and the profiler in Dave knew he was no longer consumed with raw fury, and that he could now fairly, but more importantly, calmly deal with Hotch's behaviour.

Heaving himself up, he found himself back in his living room within a few moments and was again relieved that Aaron was exactly where he had left him.

"OK, get yourself over here please" he instructed quietly, as he himself sat down on the sofa.

Hotch obediently removed his head from its resting place against the cool wall, and straightened his limbs gratefully.

Thirty minutes seemed like an eternity when all you had for company was two joining walls and a magnolia paint job.

Unwillingly dragging himself to his usual lecturing spot in front of the seated Rossi, he stood in front of him, but didn't meet his gaze.

Rossi smiled somewhat, clearly the time in the corner had done what he had intended.

It had calmed the kid down enough so he could think about his stupid behaviour, the same behaviour that if any of his lot pulled, they wouldn't enjoy sitting down for the foreseeable future.

"Look at me Aaron" he commanded firmly, and was rewarded when the younger man's eyes shot up obediently, if albeit reluctantly.

"I take it you've calmed down?" he asked dryly.

Flushing somewhat, Aaron nodded.

"I asked you a verbal question, I'd like a verbal response" Dave chided immediately.

How many times did he have to go through the drill with this maddening kid?

"Yes, I have" Aaron muttered, dropping his gaze once more.

Letting the break in eye contact go, Rossi nodded thoughtfully.

"Anything you want to say to me?"

Aaron looked up and scrunched up his face.

He _had_ calmed the hell down during his thirty minute corner stint, and he _had_ realised that he might have been a bit…impulsive, but his stubborn streak prevented him from just owning it. He was the unit chief, and he had the right to make unilateral decisions without consulting his team. He knew Rossi would point out that if any of his five tried it, they'd regret it, but they weren't the boss.

 _He_ was.

"I appreciate that you think I was out of line Dave" he began in his best _"I think you're wrong, and I'm very politely going to tell you why"_ voice.

"I know that you think that I would come down on any of the other's if they did what I did tonight, but frankly I'm the unit chief, and sometimes I have to make calls that are for the greater good. Tonight was one of those times, and it paid off. That…man, will never hurt another person for the rest of his life, and like my methods or not, the ends pretty much justify the means in this case."

With that, the younger man snapped his mouth shut, and allowed his words to sink into the older man's mind.

Dave for his part, was once again, restraining himself from cheerfully strangling the _unit chief._

Drawing in a deep breath, he shot the silent Aaron one of his patented Italian glares.

"So" he began, his tone almost conversational, but Hotch instantly caught the undercurrent, "so… you think because you're the _boss,_ that basic SOP's don't apply to you, is that it?"

Hotch blinked.

"Well, no-"

"Oh, good" Rossi interrupted firmly, "glad we cleared _that_ one up. Now Aaron, if you would be so kind, could you point me in the general direction down memory lane where I have _ever_ cared whether your asinine, imbecilic and downright martyr syndrome based actions have _been for the greater good?"_

Wincing at his mentors tone, Hotch had to admit he had him there.

"Look, Dave-"

"Silence" Rossi ordered, having finally had enough of the kid's attitude. He might be the unit chief, or he might be the god damned president, but to him, he would _always_ be simply, Hotch. The kid knew that, and he also knew better than to pull this _but I'm your boss now_ crap.

"So, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, how about you tell me, how I would have explained to Hayley and Jack and how I would have explained to Reid, to Morgan, Prentiss and JJ that you got yourself killed because you thought you knew better than those around you? That you died from an overdose of arrogance?"

Hotch gaped at him.

"Arrogance?" he spluttered indignantly, "tonight had nothing to do with arrogance, I'm the-"

"Yes _yes_ , you're the god damned _unit chief_ " Rossi snapped impatiently in interruption, "so you've mentioned."

Having the good sense and grace to look moderately abashed at this, Hotch dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Ok Aaron" Dave sighed, "here's how this is going to work, you paying attention?"

Scowling at the childlike inference, Hotch nodded curtly.

"If you can look me in the eye right now, and tell me that if Reid did what you did tonight he'd be sitting comfortably anytime in the next week, then I will drive you home without a second thought. No repercussions, I will never mention it again. However, if you can't, then I think you and I both know we have something to talk about."

With that, the elder man fell silent, and watched on as the internal struggle clearly warring inside the younger man played out across his face.

Anger, then sheepishness. Righteousness, then guilt. Bargaining, then acceptance.

Taking a deep breath, Hotch tore his gaze up from the ground and forced himself to open his mouth.

"He wouldn't sit for a month" he admitted quietly, and wasn't surprised to feel all the anger and indignation flood from his body.

He had screwed up.

Monumentally.

He had let his emotions get the better of him, and had put his life in danger as a result.

Put all those all around him in danger of the pain that would stem from his needless death had Rossi not shown up when he did. Perhaps he could have restrained the unsub himself, but he know knew as the guilt bubbled in his stomach, that it was a selfish, pointless and egotistical risk to take.

Damn, no wonder Rossi was so pissed.

Sighing, he waited for the elder man to respond to his few words, which he knew the seasoned profiler would understand conveyed the fact that he now knew he had messed up.

"I take it you understand why I'm so angry with you now, Aaron?" Rossi replied quietly, relieved beyond measure the kid had come to his senses, and also proud as hell.

Hotch could be hard work, but he was always worth it.

"Yes Dave" the younger man murmured immediately, shuffling uncomfortably under the intense gaze trained upon him.

Rossi nodded thoughtfully, and then made his decision.

"Ok. Go fetch the brush."

Hotch looked up from the rug in horror.

"Brush?" he repeated, with a horrified look on his face.

The brush meant that Rossi was going to…he reddened as the thought about it…that the elder man wasn't going to let him bend over a table for his punishment.

"Brush" Dave repeated calmly, knowing exactly why the kid looked so miserable.

Hotch hated being put over Rossi's knee, as much as Reid loathed being put over Hotch's.

Both men reserved the childlike punishment for when their respective protégées had screwed up in particularly jarring style.

"Come on Dave, I'm sorry" Aaron murmured, pooling his brown eyes to their greatest puppy dog effect.

"Not as sorry as you're going to be, now, go and get the brush. I won't ask again."

Rossi hated being this firm with the kid and he hated the sadness that greeted his words, but he needed the younger man to learn a lesson.

A lesson he had taught him many times before, but every couple of years the younger man would seemingly forget it.

With a last pleading look that was resolutely ignored, Hotch sighed and made his way to the kitchen where the dreaded instrument resided.

Rooting through a bottom drawer he quickly located the old fashioned, heavy, thick clothes brush. Eyeing it with hatred, he scooped it up and miserably made his way back into the living room.

Why hadn't he just asked for help with the Holden case?

Why did he have to be so god damned pig headed?

Sighing, he pushed open the door once more and with a great huff deposited the fearsome brush in Rossi's lap as if it were a dangerous and undetonated grenade.

The elder man's lipped quirked up in response to the sulky dramatics, but he quickly sobered.

Pushing himself further back on the sofa, he steeled himself.

"Ok Aaron, lose the jeans" he ordered firmly, but calmly.

The protests were not unexpected.

"Rossi" the young man wheedled, "come on…I know I screwed up, but…please?"

Wishing he could, but knowing he couldn't, the elder man didn't bend.

"Take them down. Now."

Groaning and looking very un- _chief_ like, Aaron reached up reluctantly and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down to his knees.

Not seeing the need to prolong the inevitable, Rossi calmly reached out and taking a firm grip of Hotch's nearest wrist, guided him gently over his knee.

Ignoring the grumblings, he quickly reached up and pushed the kid's boxers down to meet his jeans.

Wrapping his arm tightly around the young man's waist, and graciously pretending not to hear the mutterings under the kid's breath, he drew his hand back high and landed the first, of what would be many, stinging swats.

The pale backside instantly pinked up under his seasoned and determined hand, as he began to methodically spank a silent Aaron with an ease born of too much experience.

As he landed down swat after swat he began to catch the faint strains of the odd hiss and "oww" as they escaped his upended protégée.

Forcing himself to remain firm, he peppered every inch of the soft backside with precise and unrelenting swats. As he brought his hand down to light a well deserved fire across the kid's tender sit spots, the first loud whimper escaped Hotch.

Hardening his heart against the sounds of the hard headed kid's distress, Rossi reluctantly continued to dish out the well earned punishment, ensuring that an even colour of scarlet was beginning to cover the entire rear end across his lap.

Minutes later, the only sounds that could be heard in the comfortable room, were brisk and firm swats and Hotch's now open crying. Rossi knew from experience that one could only remain quiet and stoic for so long when one's backside was in the firing line, and it was clear that Hotch was now more concerned with the fire raging against his rear than he was with appearances.

Rossi continued the hand spanking for another few minutes, before casting a seasoned eye over the boy's posterior.

It was a gleaming, ruby red.

Groaning inwardly, he reached out beside him and picked up the brush he knew that Hotch loathed.

That _he_ loathed using.

Steeling himself, he wrapped a tighter arm around the crying agent's waist.

"Why are you about to get the brush Aaron?"

His voice was gentle and quiet, but firm.

He waited with an indefinable air of paternal patience for the young man to compose himself enough to answer.

Between sniffles and snuffles, his sharp ears caught the required words.

"Because…because I put myself in danger for…for no reason."

With that, Hotch dropped his head back into his arms and continued to cry, whilst Rossi nodded and reluctantly raised his arm high.

"You get that this is for your own good, right?" he murmured.

When the dark, tousled head nodded in the affirmative, Rossi reluctantly brought down the first lick of the brush, and he wasn't holding back.

Aaron yelped through his tears as the intensified pain registered in his mind and felt himself squirm despite his attempts to stay still and take his punishment.

Anticipating this, Rossi merely tightened his hold further on his squirming protégée and fell into a steady tempo, bringing down lick after lick, but being careful not to overdo it.

Tipping Hotch forward slightly, he reluctantly began to address the already quite thoroughly punished sit spots with the brush's effective lesson teaching capabilities.

It was then that he felt the young man's torso go limp and flat across his knee and it was then when Aaron stopped crying loudly and instead wept almost silently into his arms.

Running a trained gaze across the screaming red backside, Rossi was satisfied that he kid had had enough.

Laying down a last two or three brisk swats, he gratefully brought the punishment to a close, throwing the brush out of his hand immediately.

His hand that had reddened the kid's backside, instantly flew to the small of his back, as he began rubbing soothing circles on the soft skin.

He murmured soft words in Italian to the younger man, praising him for his acceptance of his punishment and assuring him that all was forgiven. Hotch made no effort to move for quite a while, merely laying limply over his mentors knee, allowing himself to be coddled. The guarded man rarely needed affection, but after a backside tanning at Rossi's hand, he always broke that rule and allowed the elder man's comfort to wash over him.

Eventually though, he became aware that his scorching backside was still on display, and he pushed himself off of the elder man's knee, who instantly turned away to remove the brush from sight and to give Aaron some privacy to right his clothing.

Aaron snorted somewhat at that, as he always did.

The older man had no problem blistering him, but _heaven forbid_ he _embarrass_ him.

 _Same old Rossi_ he thought to himself fondly, as the Italian entered the room once again.

Despite the fact that his rear end felt like it might actually combust, and despite the fact he was quite sure he would be standing at his desk for the next week, he found himself feeling intensely grateful that Rossi was still there to reign him in when he was out of line.

"How you doing son?"

Looking up, Hotch was surprised when he realised that all thing considered, he was doing just fine.

"I'm ok Dave" he answered honestly, and was relieved to hear his voice was practically back to normal.

Slightly hitched, but getting there.

Rossi nodded thoughtfully as he smiled at the red eyed Aaron benignly.

"So, say, I know you're the unit chief and all, but any chance I can still have a hug?" he teased gently, his eyes twinkling.

Rolling his eyes, Hotch crossed the room in three strides and willingly fell into his mentor's open arms.

"I'm sorry" he murmured quietly as the older agent's arms wrapped around him.

"Shh…I know, it's all forgotten about now" came the affectionate reply, accompanied by an equally affectionate squeeze.

Breaking apart, Hotch glanced at the clock and grimaced when he saw how late, or early, it was.

"I better get home Dave, Reid will be losing his mind by now."

Nodding, Rossi quickly grabbed his keys from the coffee table and gently guided Aaron towards the door.

Clambering into the car, he tactfully pretended not to notice the pained expression and the low hiss that escaped the young agent as he sat down in the passenger seat.

As the SUV edged its way out onto the road, Hotch was struck by a sudden thought.

"So I suppose it was Reid who ratted me out, huh?" he asked, with a grin.

Turning to face his protégée, Rossi shot him a warning look.

"Aaron…"

Grinning once more, the younger man shook his head.

"That kid is so dead."

…..

TBC

…..

A/N: I know this is a late update, but I just wasn't feeling this story! But after watching a few CM episodes, I fell back into it. So, sorry for the delay and please let me know what you thought/anything you guys particularly want to see!

Thanks for reading!


	10. Caller Concern

Hotch pushed his front door open carefully to the sounds of Rossi's SUV u-turning back towards the direction of his own home. He was unsurprised to see the house fully lighted in the early hours of the morning. Feeling a wave of fresh guilt for the worry he'd put the kid through, he padded quickly into the living room.

The feeling of guilt immediately intensified.

Reid was curled up in a sad little ball, with his knees tucked under his chin and his eyes firmly closed. His iPod was resting in his hand and it was clear he was trying to lose himself in his eclectic taste in music. Such was the volume that the kid didn't hear the elder man cross the room.

Stooping down, he gently tugged the headphones from the kid's ears.

The brown eyes shot open in surprise, which quickly transitioned into screaming relief when they took in the form of the unit chief.

"Hotch" he all but squeaked as he leapt up from the sofa.

"You're ok!"

Aaron smiled warmly as the young man shot into his chest for a hug, and gently wrapped his arms around him.

"I'm ok" he affirmed softly.

The doctor broke away first and looked up with those doleful eyes.

"I was so worried. When I saw you'd gone…"

Hotch grimaced.

How could he have been such a selfish, hypocritical jerk?

"I know Reid, I'm sorry" he murmured sadly, placing a hand on the kid's shoulder and guiding him back to a sitting position on the couch.

The boy sat obediently and watched silently as Hotch propped himself on the foot rest in front of him.

"What happened?" he younger agent blurted out before the team leader could utter a single word.

Closing his eyes briefly as the night's weariness washed over him, Hotch took a deep breath and began speaking.

For a solid ten minutes the deep tones of the elder man's voice filled the living room that was beginning to become bathed in pre dawn light.

The young doctors eyes widened in certain parts and his heart constricted in certain parts until such time as the tale was told.

Hotch ended the regaling at the point at which Rossi had arrived on the scene, and a silence descended over the two men.

"Uhh…" Reid began awkwardly.

Hotch raised a brow, having a distinct and non-profiling related idea where this was going.

"I uhm…I didn't mean to get you into trouble with Rossi and I'm really sorry if I did" Spencer blurted out all of a sudden and without a breath in between his words, "I swear I didn't mean for you to get busted by him."

Aaron nodded slowly.

"Didn't I tell you that it was my decision as unit chief to choose the manner in which I dealt with this case on my own terms?"

Reid blanched somewhat at the stern tone, but nodded his tousled brown head dolefully.

"And hadn't I _just_ reprimanded you for undermining my authority on this case?"

Again, the sandy brown head bobbed up and down…mournfully.

"And didn't I specifically tell you that I would deal with the breakthrough in this case, _alone_ , if it ever happened?"

Reid's eyes widened miserably as he forced his head to once again move up and down in agreement.

"So you blatantly disobeyed me yet again, by calling Rossi, didn't you?"

The question hung in the air like wildfire as the younger agent fidgeted and twitched in his seat.

"Reid?"

The kid gulped down some air and forced himself to look his boss in the eyes.

"Yes sir."

Hotch nodded thoughtfully and stood up.

Looking down at the now miserable looking kid, he crooked a finger at him.

"Come here."

Reid looked up pleadingly and put his best puppy dog eyes to good use.

"But…but I-"

"Come here" Aaron interrupted firmly.

Sighing loudly and forlornly, the young agent forced himself up and landed himself squarely in front of his boss.

"What's my punishment then?" he asked miserably, shuffling from one foot to the other in his oversized t-shirt and cotton ends.

"This" Hotch said simply, as he reached out and pulled the kid into his arms.

Holding him tightly to him, he spoke quietly to the stunned genius.

"You had the guts to call me on a bad, selfish and reckless decision. You had to sensibility to call for the help that I was too arrogant to ask for and you had my back, as always. Thank you Spencer."

With that, he released the staggered boy and squeezed his shoulder tightly.

"Proud of you, Reid."

Spencer stared gapingly at the man in front of him before managing to splutter out some speech.

"Huh?"

Chuckling, Aaron began guiding the doctor into the kitchen and set about making his much coveted pre bed hot chocolate.

"You're…you're not angry with me?"

Pulling out a mug, Hotch shook his head fondly.

"Nope. Not angry."

Hoisting himself up to sit on the kitchen counter, Spencer supervised the hot chocolate making with his face showing signs of deep thought.

As Hotch began microwaving the milk, he spoke again.

"So you didn't get in…in trouble?"

The elder man grimaced as he threw the milk back in the refrigerator.

"I wouldn't say that exactly."

Reid frowned as his boss poured the cocoa powder into the now steaming hot milk.

"But then…I ratted you out! Why aren't you angry?"

Hotch grinned as he threw an amount of sugar he didn't agree with into the chocolate.

"Because you were doing the right thing. I'm not angry, I'm impressed."

Spencer watched silently for a moment as the older agent stirred the hot drink in front of him.

"So uhh…Rossi, he wasn't too hard on you? Did he just yell?"

Hotch inwardly berated himself as he heart the guilt ridden and anxious tone in the kid's voice.

Giving the hot chocolate a final stir, he strode over to where the young man was perched and placed it on the counter beside him.

Leaning against the cabinet he folded his arms and sighed.

"What would I do to you, if you did what I did tonight?"

Reid snorted loudly.

"Break your hand off my butt?"

Hotch chuckled and nodded, rolling his eyes at the kid's dramatics.

"Uh huh, I would and Rossi…well Rossi has the same _views_ on putting yourself in danger as I do."

The doctor's gaze once again contorted in anguish as he read between the lines.

"I didn't mean for that to happen Hotch, I'm so sorry" he moaned, closing his eyes in misery.

Sighing, the elder man placed himself right in front of the morose kid and planted a hand on either side of him.

"Look at me."

He waited patiently for the young agent to comply.

"You have _nothing_ to be sorry for. I crossed a line, and I set a bad example. Rossi was right, and I deserved it. Now, I don't want to hear another word about it, it's over. Ok?"

Spencer looked directly into the eyes staring back at him and his instincts told him the man meant every word.

"Ok" he agreed softly.

Smiling his rare smile, Hotch nodded.

"Good. Now come on, drink that up. It's a ridiculous hour of the morning to be awake."

Feeling sleep drag his eyelids down with every passing moment, the young man obediently began to gulp down his hot chocolate.

A couple of minutes and some relaxed chatter later, he had hopped down from the counter and rinsed out his mug.

"Right, bed" Hotch instructed firmly, as he began flicking off lights and gently prodding and pocking the sleepy kid up the stairs.

Pausing at his bedroom door, after bidding the elder man goodnight, Reid called after his retreating back.

"Hotch?"

Turning immediately, the team leader ran a tired gaze over his youngest team member.

"Yeah Reid?"

"Staying here…it isn't all that bad I guess."

With that, the young man scampered into his room and shut the door quietly.

Chuckling, Aaron pushed the door open to his own bedroom.

"Yeah yeah, you're not all that bad either kid."

….

TBC

…..

A/N: I was going to end this story, but I've decided to leave it as an indefinite work in progress, for the time being anyway, so anything you guys want to see, please don't be shy in letting me know. Also, thanks for your patience for the break in updates, back to frequent writing again now.

This chapter is shameless fluff btw!


End file.
